Never Lost
by Skye Ryde
Summary: All Fleur ever wanted was to be with Hermione, but she was shot down. It is now their sixth year and Fleur's moved on, but she notices that Hermione is acting very strangely...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Never Lost

Rating: Pg-13, will be R later

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione. If girl/girl relationships bother you, I kindly suggest that you hit the 'back' button now.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: All Fleur ever wanted was to be with Hermione, but she was shot down. It is now their sixth year and Fleur's moved on, but she notices that Hermione is acting very strangely...

Background Story: Fleur is muggle born and she moved to England with her father when her parents got a divorce when she was six. She is in the same year and house as Hermione.

A/N: I thought it would be interesting to try out a completely different story line, where Fleur never went to Beauxbatons, but went to Hogwarts instead. And I'm not writing her character as it's typically written. She's not going to be a graceful, French veela, but I'm writing her as a regular English school girl. I'm not sure where I'm going with this yet, but I've already got a few ideas. I've got chapters 4 and 5 mostly written, but 2 and 3 are still in the works. Let me know if you guys like it and if it's even worth continuing. Any suggestions are always appreciated!

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The Hogwarts Express whistled loudly as it gained speed and departed from platform 9 and three-quarters. The cushioned seat Fleur sat on vibrated from the train's movements and she gazed around the empty compartment, wishing someone she knew would come in. Since her dad had dropped her off an hour early, she had been able to find an empty compartment quite easily, but the time to herself was something she did not enjoy. Taking the train by herself was something she never liked to do ever since her first year when she had accidently stumbled into a compartment filled with fifth year Slytherin girls who thought it would be hilarious to torment a terrified first year. Thankfully, a prefect had shown up and escorted her to a compartment with first years like herself. Since then, she made sure she was usually with someone on the train. Those Slytherins had long since graduated, but it was one of those small phobias that stayed with you, like being afraid of the heights because you fell off a chair when you were younger. 

An hour had passed since the train's departure and Fleur was dozing off because no one had entered her compartment yet. She figured that all of her friends had already found places to sit, and she did not go off to look for them because she was afraid she might run into a particular intelligent brunette in the corridors. Matt would return soon though. He had found her after he arrived on the train, but had to leave shortly after to fulfill his duties as Head Boy. Fleur began dating Matt in July, after making out with him, drunk, at a party Lavender Brown hosted.

As if on cue, the compartment door slid open, ripping Fleur from her state of half-sleep, and she watched as Matt slipped inside and shut the door with a loud _whoosh_. He turned around and grinned at his sleepy girlfriend, his blonde hair still shining even though the sun had disappeared behind the clouds outside the window.

"Malfoy's not doing his prefect duties," he told her, completely bypassing any regular kind of greeting, and seeming almost excited at the possibility that he might get to report Malfoy to Professor McGonagall.

"And that makes you happy," Fleur stated matter-of-factly, grinning cheekily, and thinking about how nice his teeth looked when he smiled.

"Oh hell, yeah! I hate that stupid git!" Though he originally came from Ireland, the brunt of his accent had faded since moving to England when he was fourteen. Fleur found the slight Irish accent to be very attractive and hoped that it would not fade away completely. "So why didn't you go find anyone to sit with? You didn't have to wait for me to get back; I would've found you eventually." He went and sat next to her, sliding his arms around her shoulders.

She snuggled into his warm body as her mind was attacked with thoughts of Hermione Granger and how desperately she wanted to avoid her. Over the summer, she had not sent a single letter to her old best friend, though she had received one or two from the other girl in the middle of the summer, which she never read, but immediately shredded into miniscule pieces when she saw who they were from.

"I just wanted to be alone with you, I guess." It was half true, but Fleur was more scared of running into Hermione than anything. _Look at what she's reduced me to! Hiding by myself in a fucking train compartment when all my friends are so close by..._

Matt's lips twitched into a self-satisfied grin and he pulled her even closer to him so that they were now sharing the same seat as opposed to two separate ones.

She sighed contently, knowing that she had just swelled his ego to the size of a hot-air balloon. "So how was the meeting?" she asked, not liking the silence from the moments before. She did not know why, but long-term quiet between the two of them always turned out awkward, therefore she did her best to always keep a conversation going.

"It's different when you're Head Boy," he said. "Everyone actually listens to you. 'Cept them Slytherin bastards. They're a bunch of ass holes."

Fleur laughed dryly, knowing how true that was. Being muggle born made her very popular to target amongst the Slytherins. During her first few years at Hogwarts, it had really gotten on her nerves, especially when she found out what the term 'mudblood' meant, but after her third year, their comments mattered less and less as she grew more confident with herself.

"But that reminds me," Matt added, his brow furrowing at remembering the message he was supposed to deliver to Fleur, "Hermione's looking for you."

Fleur's head jerked off Matt's shoulder and she stared at him with widening eyes. "She is? Did she ask _you_ if you knew where I was?" she demanded, wondering if Hermione had somehow found out about her and Matt. Before the summer, she and Matt had never spoken to one another, so the only reason Hermione would ask him if he knew where she was is if she had found about them dating, which, to Fleur's dismay, excited her.

"Nah," he answered, shaking his head slightly, causing his wavy, blond locks to fall into his eyes. "I overheard her asking the Weasley boy if he'd seen you yet."

"Oh…" Fleur was slightly disappointed at his answer. This meant Hermione still didn't know about Matt.

"Why do you ask?" he questioned after noticing how disappointed the brunette sounded.

She shook her head and smiled, quickly brushing off her moment of disappointment. "No reason. I was just wondering if she knew about you and me yet because I haven't told her anything about it." There was not any way Hermione could know, Fleur reasoned, because she rarely kept in contact with anyone who was not a good friend of hers during summer breaks. Last year, she had spent the first half of her break vacationing with Fleur at Fleur's mother's house in France, and the only person she had written who was not Harry or Ron was Ginny and she wondered curiously if Hermione had changed that habit this summer.

"Oh yeah, because you two had that falling out last year, didn't you?" Matt said, nodding his head thoughtfully.

"Yeah…"

"What was that about anyway?" he questioned curiously. No one had ever found out about why the two girls had stopped being friends; they just stopped talking to each other, which so many people found hard to believe because the two were normally attached at the hip. There had been some rumors that circulated through the Gryffindor house, but nothing that sounded feasible, like the one he had heard about Fleur being in love with Hermione, which he knew wasn't true. If she had been, then she would not be here with him now.

The compartment door slid open with a bang and two girls jumped in excitedly, shrieking when they saw Fleur and Matt cuddling on the window seat. She almost breathed a sigh of relief that they saved her from giving Matt the 'it's complicated' speech.

"There you are, Fleur!" Lavender exclaimed happily. "We've been looking for you for ages, we have. But no one's said they've seen you."

"I've been sitting here for two and a half hours, Lavender," Fleur grinned as she disentangled herself from Matt and stood to hug the two girls. "How hard did you look?"

"We got distracted in Seamus's compartment," Parvati said, looking slightly apologetic at leaving her friend alone for so long. Fleur had told her about her phobia of train riding last school year when she began spending more time with her and Lavender.

"Hey, Matt," Lavender smiled flirtatiously at the seventh year. Fleur rolled her eyes and sat back down, opting to intertwine their hands rather than snuggle into the blond's shoulder. She didn't mind Lavender flirting with her boyfriend since the bubbly blonde was interested in a new guy every week and didn't take her crushes seriously.

The rest of the train ride passed quickly in the company of Lavender and Parvati. Around three, Seamus came in and they began a game of Gobstones which lasted for more than an hour. Twenty minutes before they were due at Hogsmeade, the girls made the boys wait in the corridor while they changed into their robes, and they did the same for the boys while they changed.

"I've got to go help the prefects get everybody off the train," Matt stated when he felt the train begin to slow down. It was his job as Head Boy to organize the exiting of the train and make sure everyone got on a carriage to Hogwarts.

"Aww," Fleur pouted, clutching his hand tighter, wishing he did not have to leave.

"I'll see you at the feast," he smiled reassuringly, and disappeared after placing a lingering kiss on her lips (everyone focused their gaze on their shoes when he did this).

"You are so lucky to be dating him. He's the best looking boy in our house," Lavender claimed enviously after he left.

Seamus, who had a crush on Lavender, looked very indignant at her statement and he skulked sullenly out of the compartment by himself. Fleur felt bad for him, knowing what it was like to have feelings for someone who did not return them.

"Fleur, you coming?" Parvati asked as her and Lavender made their way to the open door to join the rapidly forming queue of people who were in a rush to get to the feast.

"You guys go on ahead," she said, gesturing them to leave without her. "I'll meet up with you at the feast."

When Fleur had pulled her robes out of her trunk earlier, a picture of her and Hermione had fallen out of the open top compartment of her trunk, which she had completely forgot about. She had quickly pocketed the old photograph before anyone saw and now she wanted a moment to look at it without the questioning eyes of her friends. The middle of her chest began to ache as she stared at the picture. It was taken nearly two years ago, in fourth year, right after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. They were both smiling broadly and Hermione had her arm wrapped around the blonde's waist, while Fleur's arm was resting comfortably on Hermione's shoulder, and occasionally they would look at one another and open their mouths in silent laughter. Fleur remembered the night vividly. Hermione had been so giddy at Harry's success in the first task and she had spent the entire night up against Fleur's side, claiming, "I just feel like hugging you for some reason. You don't mind, do you?" It had taken all of her willpower not to kiss Hermione that night, even though she desperately wanted to. She had been hyperaware of Hermione's every move, and at the end of the night she climbed into bed and shed silent tears at how much it hurt her not to be with the other girl.

"You need to exit the train now," a voice came from behind Fleur.

She quickly shoved the photograph in her pocket and turned around to face the girl she tried so desperately to get over this summer. Hermione stood before her, looking as beautiful as ever, with her wavy brown hair parted on the left side and falling loose below her shoulders.

Hermione's eyes widened when she saw that it was Fleur that had been in the compartment. Her mouth opened slightly and she seemed to lose her voice because she said nothing more.

Raw emotion slammed Fleur and she almost felt like she was going to pass out from the feelings raging in her chest. Seeing Hermione now, she knew that the months she had spent trying to get over her were worthless; because, once again, she found herself drowning in those caring, brown eyes.

"Okay," Fleur said, surprised at how husky her voice sounded. This was what she had dreaded; she'd dreaded returning to Hogwarts because she _knew_ that she would fall for Hermione again the moment she laid eyes on her. There was some force that inexplicitly, and so very unfortunately, drew her to the other girl. Like an artist with his brush, she could never let go, no matter how hard she tried. She knew that she would run into Hermione sooner or later, seeing as how they were dorm mates, but she had hoped that it would be later, rather than sooner.

A hand grabbed her arm when she reached the sliding door, and Fleur thanked all higher power that her arm was clothed, as she did not think she could stand it if Hermione's hand touched her bare skin. "Fleur, wait," Hermione whispered so softly that she had to strain to hear her.

Jerking her arm away from Hermione's grasp, she turned to the girl and said, "Matthew told me you were looking for me earlier?" Her eyes flashed with confusion and Fleur concluded that Hermione had no idea about her and Matt. "We'll talk later, okay? But this train's going to leave the station whether we're off it or not, so we really should get going." Without another word, Fleur raced off, leaving a very confused and distraught Hermione behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Never Lost

Rating: Pg-13

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: All Fleur ever wanted was to be with Hermione, but she was shot down. It is now their sixth year and Fleur's moved on, but she notices that Hermione is acting very strangely...

Background Story: Fleur is muggle born and she moved to England with her father when her parents got a divorce when she was six. She is in the same year and house as Hermione.

A/N: I had some time to write this up today. It's not my best, but I figured I'd post it tonight, though I might edit it later. If anyone would like to beta for me, let me know. Would be massively appreciated!

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_The last of classes had ended for the term and the common room was obnoxiously loud that evening because of it, with everyone excited for Christmas break. Fleur slouched in her favorite, comfortable couch near the fire, basking in the homely warmth it offered her. The next night would be much quieter, she knew, because everyone was leaving, going home the next morning, while she would spend the next two weeks within the confines of the castle walls. Her father had owled her earlier that week telling her to stay at Hogwarts over break because he was going on a month long business trip all around Asia. Since she did not want sympathy from others, she neglected to mention it to anyone, including her best friend, who, she knew, would immediately cancel her skiing trip with her parents to stay at Hogwarts with her, and she did not want the other girl to do that. _

"_Hey, Fleur," Hermione greeted and collapsed onto the couch right next to her, looking exhausted._

"_Hey," she said softly, staring at the glow of the fire. On the other hand, maybe she should let Hermione spend Christmas break at Hogwarts because it would mean two weeks alone with the other girl without the pressure of studying for OWLs or the frequent D.A. meetings. Grinning slightly, she realized that Hermione would most likely study anyway or spend the majority of her time reading. Fleur loved the cute frown that formed on her face whenever she was concentrating on something. _

"_So there's something I want to talk to you about," Hermione stated. Her fingers played with the silver ring on her right middle finger, a nervous habit she had picked up after Fleur had given her the ring for her birthday that past September. _

"_You're always so straight to the point. Why can't you start some casual conversation before you lead up to the dreaded 'we need to talk' phrase?" she stalled anxiously, praying that Hermione had not figured out her feelings for her. _

"I'm_ always so straight to the point? What about_ you_?" Hermione smiled lightly and Fleur felt her heart crack one more time. _

"_What about me?"_

"_You're worse than Ronald with how blunt and straightforward you are."_

"_Are you comparing me to Ron?"_

"_Yes." Hermione nodded affirmation and then frowned as she realized that comparing Fleur to Ron was a bit insulting to Fleur. _

"_But you love me more," she added, playfully nudging the older brunette with her shoulder, to which Hermione grinned and nodded._

"_Of course…"_

_Fleur's gaze fell back to the fire and her smile faltered slightly. There was always that internal debate going on in her head, whether she should tell Hermione how she felt or not. For the past two years and half years, Fleur nursed a soft spot for her, but never went as far as thinking she was in love with her. As of lately, however, her feelings had taken on a new intensity, rendering Fleur almost speechless whenever Hermione was around, and she was beginning to question just how far her feelings stretched._

"_So what'd you want to talk to me about?" Fleur asked, her curiosity definitely peaked, even though she was nervous of what the answer would be._

"_I overheard McGonagall telling Filch to add your name to the list of students staying at Hogwarts…" she trailed off. She looked expectantly at Fleur, who stared grimly at her prefect badge._

"_Yeah…" Fleur began, slightly embarrassed that the other girl had found out, though she would have figured it out the next day when Fleur did not ride the train with her, Harry, and Ron back to King's Cross. "My dad's got a business trip so you know how it is…" As Head of Finance to a multi-billion dollar clothing company, Kieran Delacour spent most of his time traveling to factories in other countries and to have meetings with other companies. It disappointed her that she would not see him again until the summer, but she had grown used to it over the years. _

"_That's what I thought," Hermione said. She looked at Fleur. "I can stay at Hogwarts if you want me to," she offered, just like Fleur knew she would._

_She laughed dryly and shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she declined. "You have parents who actually want to see you and they planned the ski trip so it would fit in with break."_

"_But I don't even _like_ to ski."_

"_So you're trying to use me as an excuse not to go?" she deadpanned._

"_No! No, I'm just going to feel really bad if you're here by yourself over Christmas," Hermione quickly said, not catching Fleur's joking tone._

_Her chest constricted painfully when she heard the sincerity behind Hermione's words. She knew how much the other girl cared for her, and at times like those, she found it so difficult to be just her friend. _

This particular memory came to Fleur's mind as she strolled up to the library to research an essay Snape had assigned in Defense Against the Dark Arts that day. In the end, she had convinced Hermione to go on the ski trip with her parents, but not without some regret. And the agonizing stabs of jealousy that ensued after she had found out that Hermione had spent only a week skiing with her parents before going to spend the rest of break at Grimmauld Place with Harry and Ron had been almost unbearable.

Harry and Ron were in the library (working on the same essay) when she arrived. Edging by the ever-watchful Madam Pince, Fleur went and sat with the boys, but not before glancing around to see if Hermione was anywhere in sight.

"She's not here," Harry said without looking up from his parchment.

"Oh," Fleur said, plopping down in the chair next to Ron, feeling satisfied. "Good."

It was the first Thursday of term. Despite Fleur's promise from the train to talk to Hermione, she had successfully managed to avoid the girl all week, whether that meant going to bed at 10:00, or rushing out of class the moment the bell rang, she had managed.

"She really wants to talk to you though," Harry said, glancing up.

"About what?"

"We don't know; she refuses to tell us," Ron said, finally done paraphrasing from the book in front of him. "Here." He passed her the book he was using. "This book's got a lot on Sirens."

"Tell her to go shove it. I really don't want to talk to her," Fleur said rather cruelly. She began skimming the pages so as she did not see the look Harry and Ron gave each other.

"You know you're going to have to talk to her eventually. You share a dorm and three classes," Harry said.

Fleur sighed. "Later rather than soon, I guess then."

"What the hell did she do to you that's got you acting like such a bitch to her?" Ron inquired.

There was a moment's hesitation before she answered, "I'd really rather not talk about it. It's between me and her."

"It's between you and her, but Harry and I are both your guys' friends so we're kind of caught in the middle," Ron said.

"I don't care if you guys are friends with her." Which she honestly did not.

"But both of us want you two to be friends again," Harry said quietly.

Angered, Fleur slammed the book shut, stood up, and leaned over the table. "Hermione and I are done!" she whispered harshly. "We're _never _going to be back the way we used to, okay? You have absolutely no idea what happened between us. I love you guys, but if you keep bringing up Hermione whenever I'm around, then I can't be around much longer." She stood up straight. "I'll see you guys in the common room."

"Don't forget Quidditch practice tonight!" Harry called out and she distinctly heard Madam Pince say "_Shh!_" as she left.

Instead of heading back to the common room, Fleur decided to take a walk around the lake to clear her head. She regretted getting so angry with Harry and Ron, seeing as they were only trying to help. If only they knew how deep it went, if only they knew how much it would hurt her to be friends with Hermione again. She was trying to move on, and if they kept shoving Hermione in her face, she would never be able to do so. The other girl made herself perfectly clear that she did not feel anything for Fleur.

_The two girls sat side-by-side on Fleur's bed. It was early in the evening and most people were still at dinner. That is where a hungry Hermione would have been as well if Fleur had not asked to speak with her in private after their last class of the day. So there they were, sitting in the dormitory in silence, Hermione curious to know what the blonde wanted to talk about._

_After several moments, Hermione was sure that Fleur would not say anything so she decided to begin the conversation. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked._

_Fleur said nothing._

"_Fleur?" Hermione said, bending her knee and turning so she could face the other girl. "Are you okay?"_

_She barely heard the other girl. Her stomach felt like someone was pounding it with a rock, she was so nervous, and the rate at which her heart was beating made her feel slightly faint. If she did not do this now, she would lose her nerve and it would take a long time to strike up the same amount of courage. Fleur's feelings for Hermione were becoming too much to deal with. Her heart would ache every time she saw the other girl, she would lose capability to speak clearly, and her whole body would tingle with excitement. _

"_I'm fine." Her voice came out croaky and she cleared her throat. Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt, she said, "There's something I need to tell you." Her heart pounding was becoming unbearable. It was now or never…_

"_Yes?"_

_It took her a moment to realize it but suddenly, Fleur's lips were on hers. Hermione's eyes jerked wide open and she pulled away sharply. "God, Fleur, what the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed before she could stop herself._

"_Oh my god." Fleur was absolutely mortified. In all the scenarios she had pictured to happen when she finally kissed Hermione, never did she expect that kind of reaction. "Oh my god," she repeated much more quietly._

_Running a hand through her wavy hair, Hermione tried not to think about why her stomach was feeling very light. "Um… Fleur, why did you just kiss me?" she asked much more gently._

"_That was a mistake," Fleur said, her face beet red. "I shouldn't have done it."_

"_Yes, but why did you in the first place?"_

_She had gotten this far, she might as well finish. There was still hope, was there not? Mustering up all her courage, Fleur muttered, "I did it because…"_

_There was a pause. "Because?"_

_Fleur sighed. "Because I like you."_

_There was silence. Hermione sat there, trying to think this through. Fleur liked her? As friends, right? She could have slapped herself for being so naïve. _Not as friends, you idiot, why else would she kiss you?

"_Are you going to say something?" Fleur said quietly. She wanted to throw herself off a broom, she should never had said anything about her feelings. Hermione was being too quiet._

"_You…you like me?" Hermione asked weakly._

_Biting her lip hard and avoiding eye contact, Fleur nodded. She could still taste Hermione's lips on her own as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. They had been so soft… _

"_Oh…" She did not know what else to say. Obviously, she had missed something. Licking her lips, Hermione realized that she could still taste Fleur's chapstick, and her heart skipped a beat at that thought. _

_Fleur silently waited for the brunette to say more. There was still hope…there was still hope….Her palms had grown so sweaty that she wiped them on her skirt again, and her heart had calmed down a bit. At this point, though, she was dreading the worst._

"_Fleur…I'm sorry, but I don't…" Hermione swallowed hard before finishing. "I don't think I like you in that way…"_

_And that was the day Fleur's world fell apart._

The heartache from that day returned, nearly blasting Fleur off her feet. That was possibly the worst thing Hermione could have said, short of her saying, "You're disgusting, I hate you." But sometimes, she thought it might have been better if the other girl hated her. The day after she declared her feelings (she had fled the room when Hermione rejected her), Hermione had hunted her down and told her that she still wanted to be her friend. Overjoyed that the other girl did not hate her, Fleur had graciously accepted the offer, but after a couple of months she began to pull away, the tremendous feeling of agony in the middle of her chest too much to bear. After some time, she began to be openly rude to the other girl, making fun of her until one day, she started to ignore her completely. Wanting to get over the beautiful brunette so badly, Fleur thought it would help if she just pretended the other did not exist. It did not help, but that is beside the point. Over the summer, she had met Matt at one of Lavender's parties and fallen for him, and now here she was, plummeting off a cliff for Hermione once again. Fleur knew she could not justify her anger, but that did not stop her from feeling it towards the other girl.

Looking up at the darkening sky, Fleur held back her tears. She was done crying over Hermione, she was done shedding tears over unrequited love. She would talk to Hermione, yes, but only to tell her she was letting go of her. Maybe once she did that, she would finally be able to move on. Hopefully. She prayed. Hermione was not the one for her, she knew, but even though she knew, she could not help but wonder…

_Why does it hurt like this?_


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Never Lost

Rating: Pg-13

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: All Fleur ever wanted was to be with Hermione, but she was shot down. It is now their sixth year and Fleur's moved on, but she notices that Hermione is acting very strangely...

Background Story: Fleur is muggle born and she moved to England with her father when her parents got a divorce when she was six. She is in the same year and house as Hermione.

A/N: This chapter's a lot longer than I originally planned it to be, but ideas just kept hitting me and I was up until 2:30 in the morning writing. I'm quite happy with the way this chapter has turned out, and hope you guys like it! Feedback would be wonderful!

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It was Thursday night of the first week of term. Hermione leaned closer to her book, trying to tune out the loud ruckus of the common room. Fred and George Weasely were gone, but two new jokesters had happily filled in their place, a couple of fourth years named Jeremiah Plum and Travis Crosley. There was a large group of people gathered around the pair as they told crude jokes.

"What's the difference between strange pussy and strange apple pie?" Travis asked the crowd of people.

There was a chorus of "What?"

"You can eat strange apple pie without being afraid!"

The crowd cracked up, though some of the younger students looked confused and did not laugh. Aghast, Hermione threw down her book and went over to the boys. "You do _not_ make those kinds of jokes in the common room. It is completely inappropriate for the younger students!" she reprimanded.

"What're you going to do about it, Granger?" Jeremiah said. He nudged Travis and gave her a wicked grin. "It's not like you can give us detention."

Eyes narrowed, Hermione crossed her arms and laughed hollowly. At least the Weasely twins had some resemblance of class, unlike these boys.

"She can't give you detention, but she can report you to me, who actually _can_ give you detention. With any teacher I want…like Professor Snape for instance." Matthew threatened, popping up out of nowhere. "So I suggest that you listen to your house prefects from here on out."

Jeremiah and Travis glared at the pair before storming across the common room, into the corner farthest away from where Hermione and Matthew were standing. Hermione turned to the blond, her body stiff and unwelcoming. "Thank you," she said more out of politeness than anything else.

Matthew nodded and grinned. "No problem. If those two give you any more trouble, let me know and I'll take care of it."

"Okay," was Hermione's only response. She was irritated that he was undermining her authority when just last year, he was a regular prefect himself. She was perfectly capable of handling these types of situations without any help.

"I'll see you later, Hermione." Giving her one last, charming smile, he went and returned to the table where he and Fleur were doing their homework together.

Hermione stared at the back of Fleur's blonde head for a moment (she never turned around), before going back to her own chair to resume her reading homework. From her position, she could see the blond couple clearly. Fleur was leaning over a piece of parchment, no doubt working on Snape's Sirens essay, but Matthew had no books open, and he was simply staring at Fleur with a glazed over look of bliss. She wanted to rip that stupid grin right off his face.

"Does she have any veela blood in her?" Ron asked, noticing where Hermione was staring. "Because Vaughn seems like he's under some kind of trance."

"No, Ronald, she's muggle born, remember? She can't have any veela blood," she said, feeling extremely annoyed at the sight of the two.

"Are you sure?" he asked thoughtfully. "There's just something about her…" He continued to stare for a moment before shaking his, as though he had fallen into some kind of trance as well.

"It's called natural beauty," she said rather wistfully.

Ron stared at her. "I dunno, Hermione, I think she might have some veela in her. Because that would explain why you're always staring at her."

Slamming her book shut once again, Hermione leaned forward angrily. "I am_not_ always staring at her!" she huffed.

"Yes, you are!"

"I am not!" To outside ears, their bickering sounded childish and immature, so she leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and sighed irritably.

Shaking his head in surrender, Ron changed the topic to something much more neutral. "Can you read over my Sirens essay for me? I've actually worked hard on this one, would be a shame if I don't do well."

"Of course you work hard on an essay about Sirens. They're as beautiful as veelas."

"What?"

"I'll check it tomorrow morning," Hermione said, while she gathered up her books. "I'm going to bed now."

"But it's only 9:30," Ron said disbelievingly.

"I've had a long day," she answered truthfully. "Good night."

Throwing her dormitory door shut, Hermione dropped her bag next to her dresser and threw herself onto the bed, burying her face deep into her soft pillow. She had had a long week, which consisted mainly of school work and trying to find Fleur so she could talk to her. All summer Hermione had wanted to see the girl so desperately. She even wrote her two letters in July, telling the blonde everything she was feeling. But she never received any response.

Over the months, she had finally realized her feelings for the other girl. But Fleur never gave her a chance to explain. Where was that girl who listened to everything Hermione had to say, who listened to every worry about school work or her declining relationship with her parents, to every complaint about Ron or Professor Snape, to every dream she had, to every mindless rant…where was that girl? It was difficult to comprehend why feelings of attraction could complicate things so much. Before Fleur, Hermione had never felt so comfortable with a person; Fleur was that one person she could tell anything and everything to, could be in any kind of mood without being judged. She could simply be herself around the other girl, no walls, no barriers. Never did she realize that these were feelings of love coursing through her…until it was too late that is. It was the one thing that haunted Hermione every day: being too late to tell Fleur how she felt. And now…well now, Fleur's moved on, away from their old friendship and away from her romantic feelings for the brunette. Hermione, who had always gotten along with Matthew (intelligent, nice, charming, what's not to like?) when they were performing prefect duties together, now hated the boy. Never too prone to jealousy, Hermione was shocked at how the green monster took over her entire being when she found out about Fleur and Matthew. Their first day of term, she had returned to their dormitory to find Fleur not there and have Lavender tell her that she was spending the night in Matthew Vaughn's room. The perky blonde giggled when she said this.

"You know, because head boy gets his own room," she had clarified.

Scowling, Hermione had changed quickly and climbed into bed, fastening the scarlet curtains shut before she let the tears fall.

Here she was now, missing her best friend, and filled with regret at not taking the opportunity to be with the woman she was in love with when she had the chance. All week she had tried to talk to Fleur, but the blonde had avoided her. Hermione was ready to give up at this point. It was obvious that the girl hated her, so it would do her well to stay out of the way.

The door creaked open, someone came inside, and then they shut the door quietly. Soft footsteps approached Hermione's bed, and she automatically knew whose they were. Fleur's stride was always so quiet when compared to the thundering steps of Lavender and Parvati.

"Hermione?" the naturally husky voice of Fleur said tentatively, in case Hermione was asleep.

"So now you want to talk to me?" she said irritably, sitting up and smoothing out her hair with her hand.

"Well, yeah, now that I've got something to say," Fleur said coldly.

"It's all about what you want, isn't it?" Hermione was angry with the girl in front of her. All summer she had wanted to talk to her, but Fleur would have none of it. And now, only when Fleur felt like they should have an actual conversation, did they speak to each other.

"I'm feeling rather selfish right now, so yeah," she said rather cruelly.

"What happened to you, Fleur? Why are you being like this?" Hermione was desperate to know what was going on in the other girl's head.

"Nothing happened, I'm still the same old Fleur."

"I find that hard to believe," she scoffed.

"You just don't deserve to see it," the blonde sneered.

Wincing at her words, Hermione stood up an approached the taller girl. "What did I do? _What_ did I do to deserve this? I turned you down? Well, I'm sorry, but in no way did that merit the verbal abuse you put me through last year, or the silent treatment you're putting me through this year!"

"I'm over you, Hermione, I'm just pissed about all the time I wasted on you." Fleur's expression was stone cold.

The argument sounded weak to Hermione, so she replied by saying, "That is such bullshit, Fleur!" Normally, she was not one to swear, but right now seemed to call for the occasion. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she felt a mixture of anger and love for the girl in front of her. "You're over me? Fine! Why can't we just be friends again then?"

"Because I don't want to be your friend again!" she exclaimed, her face growing red.

Hermione looked, and felt, like she had been slapped. This was worse than the silent treatment she had been receiving this past week. At least she could entertain ideas that Fleur might still be in love with her if she went through the trouble of avoiding her, but now, with such an open declaration, Hermione felt her world almost begin to crumble in. But not quite yet, because when Fleur said this, there was a flash in her icy blue eyes, a flash of regret, so quick that if Hermione had not been staring so intensely at her face, she would have missed. And this gave her hope.

"I don't believe you." Her voice now soft, her previous fury evaporated and replaced with the tingly feeling she always got whenever she was physically close to Fleur.

"No?" There was something in her eyes that was breaking.

Hermione shook her head. "No." She touched the back of Fleur's hand with her cool fingertips, caressing the warm skin with her light touch. "I miss you, Fleur…I just want you back." Her voice was nearly a whisper now.

"Hermione…please don't…please don't do this to me again." There she was; that vulnerable girl Hermione knew and loved, the girl who put on such a brave face for others, but fell apart when it was just the two of them. "I can't go through this again."

"Why can't we just forget the past? I love you, Fleur," Hermione finally admitted.

The hardened look returned to her eyes and she jerked her hand away from the brunette's, taking a shaky step back. "Don't say that," she said, her voice rising in volume. "Do not ever say that!"

"But it's true! I do love you!"

"Shut up, just shut up!" She had backed herself into the wall next to the door by this point, eyes wide and scared. To Hermione, it seemed that the other girl was having some sort of internal battle, but she was not sure.

"Fleur…" She began to slowly approach the cowering blonde. When she reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, Fleur screamed, "No, don't touch me!"

"What's wrong?" Hermione wondered, jerking her hand back, startled at Fleur's scream.

There was no response for a moment and then finally, she said, "I have to go now. Matt's waiting downstairs for me." She looked like she was fighting to hold something back.

There again was that painful stab of jealousy. "Fleur, wait!" Hermione said.

Halfway out the door, Fleur hesitated and turned around. "Please stay away from me." Her voice was so monotonous, so lifeless that Hermione was taken aback. She said nothing as the younger girl left, listening to her quiet steps recede down the staircase.

She was getting somewhere, she realized. Whatever Fleur felt for her, it was not hatred, and Hermione could sense the girl's inner turmoil. She had screamed at her not to tell her she loved her, and she was terrified to let Hermione touch her…that had to mean something, didn't it? However, she would not go as far as to believe Fleur still had feelings for her…she could not let herself hope for that much because it would crush her if her hope proved false.

"_Good moooorning," Fleur cooed into Hermione's ear. "Time to wake up."_

_Sighing at the pleasurable sensation of the blonde's breath against her ear, Hermione turned over so that she was lying on her back. "Fleur?" she said groggily, holding a hand against her mouth, self-conscious of morning breath._

"_Yes?"_

_Pause. "Why are you in my bed?"_

_Stretching out languidly, the blonde drawled, "Because it's so much more comfortable than mine."_

"_We have the same kind of mattress," Hermione said matter-of-factly before rolling over to go back to sleep._

"_There's no going back to sleep now." She gently prodded the bundled up form._

"_Why not?" Hermione responded crankily. "Breakfast isn't for another two hours."_

"_Because it's your birthday!" the blonde said brightly._

"_I think you're more excited than I am," she muttered into the pillow, wrapping the comforter more firmly around her body._

"_Yeah, probably," Fleur agreed. "Now wake up!"_

"_You're not serious."_

"_I am, though I suppose it wouldn't be so bad lying in bed with you for another two hours…but that's beside the point."_

_Hermione groaned. "It is far too early for you to flirt with me, Fleur. At least wait until after my shower."_

"_Can you please get out of bed now?"_

"_Why?"_

"_I've got a surprise for you."_

"_I hate surprises," Hermione reminded her. Slowly, she began to become more awake as the other girl spoke to her. This was usually Fleur's technique to get Hermione out of bed early, which happened far too often for her liking: keep a conversation going with her._

"_I know, but I think you'll like this one."_

"_I hate you."_

"_I love you too, sunshine, now get out of bed or we're going to miss it."_

"_In case it's escaped your notice, there is no sunshine yet; it's barely six am." Flipping back over, she let herself soak comfortably in the warmth the other girl's body offered._

"_Yeah, which is why we need to get going," Fleur bounced happily._

"_If you're going to show me a sunrise, I've seen them before…with you, if I recall correctly."_

_The blonde shook Hermione gently. "You do recall correctly, but it's not that, it's something far better. Now will you please get up? We'll miss it if we don't leave soon!"_

_Fleur seemed so excited, so Hermione assumed that maybe this would be worth her time getting out of bed at this hour. She dragged herself away from the comfortable mattress and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she returned to the room, Fleur threw a baby-blue sweatshirt at her and she pulled it on, sinking into the softness and warmth of the blonde's clothing._

"_Where are we going?" she wondered curiously as they made their way onto the grounds. _

"_You'll see."_

_They walked for another few minutes and Hermione saw that they were heading towards the Quidditch field. "Why are we going to the Quidditch field?" she questioned, looking at the younger girl._

"_We're not, I just need to get my Firebolt first," Fleur told her._

_Stopping dead in her tracks, Hermione grabbed the taller girl's hand. "We're flying?"_

"_We kind of have to if we want to reach where we're going."_

"_I hate flying."_

"_I know, which is why I don't consider this part of your surprise."_

_Hermione gave her a look but said no more. The cold air felt crisp and her eyes watered as they walked against the wind. She huddled closer to Fleur as they walked, trying to keep warm. After retrieving her Firebolt, Fleur climbed on and looked expectantly at Hermione._

"_C'mon, Hermione, you know you can trust me. Nothing will happen to you."_

"_You promise?"_

"_Cross my heart," she said seriously._

"_Okay." Still feeling apprehensive, she clambered onto the broom behind Fleur, wrapping her arms tightly around the taller girl's waist, enjoying the tingling sensation in her stomach. _

_Fleur was an excellent flyer, which is perhaps why she made the Gryffindor Quidditch team in her third year. She flew back the way they came, gliding close to the surface of the lake, but climbed higher up when she caught sight of the Great Squid near the surface. Grinning into Fleur's shoulder, Hermione remembered that the blonde was deathly afraid of water creatures. They flew past Hagrid's hut and over the trees of the Forbidden Forest._

"_Where are we going?" she called through the loud wind in their ears._

"_You'll see!" _

_They flew for a few more minutes, heading deeper into the forest and further and further away from the castle. Remembering everything that had happened in the forest, Hermione felt a little fearful as they went further in. However, if there was one thing she was certain about, it was that she could trust Fleur. She could trust the other girl with her life and not be disappointed._

_The sun began to peak over the edge of the forest. She buried her face into Fleur's back, shielding her eyes from the sharp glare, and she felt the blonde tense. Thinking nothing of it, Hermione wrapped her arms tighter around the girl's waist and faintly wondered why it felt so good being this close to her._

_Tilting the broom downwards, they declined into a small clearing. _

"_Oh my god…" Hermione's jaw dropped as she saw a large herd of unicorns. She climbed shakily off the broom and moved close to Fleur, who wrapped a steady arm around her. _

"_I take you someplace every year for your birthday," Fleur began, "and I remembered that you were infatuated with unicorns, so I decided to bring you here."_

"_Fleur…" She was speechless. A baby unicorn shyly approached them, its golden fur glistening in the early morning light. "How did you know they were here?" she asked quietly, not wanting to scare away the fowl._

"_Hagrid told me about this clearing last year when we were studying unicorns in Care of Magical Creatures. He told me several families lived here, which was where he caught the ones for class. Only told me about it though because he knows how much I adore the study of magical creatures." Fleur produced a couple of sugar lumps from her pocket and handed them to the astonished Hermione. "Here, feed him these. He likes them."_

"_Hagrid told you about this place?" Hermione gingerly held out her hand, offering the sugar cube to the unicorn. "How long have you been coming here?"_

"_I come every once and a while, whenever I feel the need to escape from it all," she said fondly. "This is the quietest part of the forest and nobody knows about it. You can only get to it by flying."_

"_Really?" Realizing that Fleur was letting in her in another private part of her life, Hermione felt really pleased._

"_Yeah. You see the trees all around here?" Fleur pointed at the clumps of trees, grown so close together that Hermione could see no gaps for people to come though. "Well the unicorns used their magic to charm it, so as no person or creature can break through. But the unicorns themselves can come and go as they please."_

"_That's amazing…" Walking around the clearing, Hermione noted the lush grass that grew from the ground, unlike the other parts of the forest. She watched the unicorns in amazement. There were eight in all, two fowl, three silver, and three fully grown unicorns, their pure white fur almost too blinding to look at. Hermione felt Fleur staring at her, possibly trying to gauge her reaction to this outing. Making sure the blonde knew that she loved this surprise, she went over and hugged the girl tightly. "I love it. Fleur, this is absolutely amazing, thank you."_

_Because her face was buried in the taller girl's shoulder, she missed the soft smile that formed on Fleur's face. "I'm glad you like it, but that's not all there is." She pulled out of the hug and ran over to the largest unicorn (Hermione knew it was a male). _

"_There's more?"_

"_Of course," Fleur said. "I wouldn't drag you out here at the crack of dawn to stare at some unicorns; could do that any time of the day. No, I need to finish your gift here."_

"_My gift?"_

_The blonde gave her a disbelieving look. "Hermione, it's your birthday, of course there's a gift involved." Digging in her pocket, Fleur pulled out a small box. Hermione moved forward curiously, and the other girl handed her the box. "Open in and put it on right away."_

_A golden ring was inside the tiny box. Gasping in surprise, the brunette pulled it out and admired the large sapphire studs that were engraved all around the thin band. "It's beautiful…" she breathed. _

"_Put it on."_

_Sliding the ring down her right middle finger, Hermione looked up at Fleur, her eyes shining with emotion. "Fleur, this is really…thank you." She was about to embrace the other girl, but Fleur took a step back. Giving her a curious look, Hermione yelped when she the unicorn next to them brushed his head against her arm. After she spun around, he pressed the tip of his horn against the one of the sapphire studs. The ring spun hot on her finger as he touched each stone with his horn. When he finished, he stepped back and joined one of the fowls eating grass a few feet away._

"_Did he just…?" Hermione began, staring at her hand in wonder._

"_He charmed the stones of your ring, something unicorns can—"_

"_Only do at sunrise…What charm did he use?"_

_Smoothing back a strand of hair that had managed to fall out of her low ponytail, Fleur answered seriously, "A protection charm, of course." She approached Hermione and took her hand, running her thumb along the golden band. "Voldemort's back, whether that hag Umbridge or the rest of the Ministry believe it or not. And one of my worst fears is losing my best friend." Her words were encased with such sincere emotion that Hermione felt touched. "Because there are so many stones on this ring, the power of that protection charm is phenomenal. You'll be protected against all minor and most major curses…I really love you, Hermione." The brunette held Fleur's intense gaze. "I can't lose you."_

It was the morning of September ninth, Hermione's seventeenth birthday. The clock read 6:05 am. Exactly one year ago, Fleur was on her bed, trying to make her get up so they could fly over the Forbidden Forest to the clearing with the unicorns. Staring at the canopy of her bed, she tried to fight back the tears that were forming. It was her birthday and Fleur was not even in the room…she was spending the night with Matthew, according to Lavender. Hermione felt betrayed somehow. Every year since she had been at Hogwarts, Fleur had always jumped on her bed to wake her up and give the brunette her gift. Last year had definitely been the most special though. Holding her hand out in front of her, Hermione smiled softly as she admired the golden ring. At the time she received it, she thought that she had the sweetest best friend of all time. Now, she felt like she should have known there was something more, especially with the way Fleur told her she loved her; it was filled with such strong emotion…no one had ever said 'I love you' to her like Fleur did. If only she had recognized the girl's feelings for what they really were, maybe Hermione could have deciphered her own in time….

She sat up and gazed around the dark room. Both Parvati and Lavender had the curtains to their four-poster beds closed, but Fleur's were open (she normally slept with them open, preferring to be woken by the morning sunlight rather than by the rude bell of an alarm clock) and there was no sleeping blonde on the bed. Her chest constricted painfully and she tried to expel any thoughts of what Fleur and Matthew did when Fleur spent the night in his room. Now that…that was more than she could handle.

They had not spoken since the night they fought, and, for the time being, Hermione had given up trying to talk to her. If talking to Fleur actually meant fighting with the girl, she would rather not do so. Instead, she settled for staring wistfully at the blonde whenever she was in the room. Fleur usually sat with Matthew or with Lavender and Parvati, who she had become impossibly close to. Some nights, Hermione would hear them chatting girlishly together, and she would cast a Silencing charm on her hangings, jealous of the vain duo.

When Hermione entered the common room two hours later, freshly showered and dressed, Harry and Ron wished her a bright happy birthday and handed her their gifts (her favorite chocolate purchased at Honeydukes from Ron, and a brand new eagle quill from Harry).

At breakfast, Fleur sat with Matthew, Lavender, and Parvati. Far short of wishing her happy birthday, the blonde did not even spare her a single glance. Staring sadly at the ring on her finger, Hermione considered skipping class that day, but immediately thought against it. Hiding in her dormitory would do nothing to help, and going to class meant an easy distraction. She gave Fleur one last look, sighed, and excused herself from the table, ready to start her day.

"_Watch out for next year." Fleur laughed and tickled Hermione's sides as they made their way back up to the castle for breakfast._

"_What happens next year?" Hermione asked, lightly shoving the blonde's hands away from her ribs (she hated to be tickled, but the other girl insisted on torturing her). _

"_I get you an even better gift for your birthday," she stated matter-of-factly._

"_How on earth do you plan to top a charmed, golden ring?" She laughed as Fleur began skipping towards the front door._

_Turning around, she gave the brunette a shrug and a cheeky grin. "I don't know…but I've got a whole year to think about it, don't I?"_

_Hermione merely smiled and shook her head, feeling very fond of her best friend. _

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A/N: This is not beta'd, so I apologize for any errors._  
_


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Never Lost

Rating: Pg-13

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: All Fleur ever wanted was to be with Hermione, but she was shot down. It is now their sixth year and Fleur's moved on, but she notices that Hermione is acting very strangely...

Background Story: Fleur is muggle born and she moved to England with her father when her parents got a divorce when she was six. She is in the same year and house as Hermione.

A/N: Originally, this chapter was going to be a lot longer, but I thought it would be best to split it into two parts, and you'll see why at the end. Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

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The next couple of months flew by quickly and suddenly the beginning of November crept upon them, and signs of an early winter began to appear with the temperature dropping down to a freezing level in the night, leaving icy pathways and frost for students to slip and slide through on their way to morning classes. Homework, Quidditch practice, and spending time with Matt occupied most of Fleur's time. Due to the new level of security at Hogwarts, she was unable to visit the unicorn clearing, therefore ridding herself of her only escape. This left her feeling gloomy, but the threat of Voldemort was serious and she did not dare escape the confines of the castle, especially after what happened to Katie Bell on their first, and now only, trip to Hogsmeade. 

Since their fight in September, Hermione had barely uttered a single word to her, which Fleur was thankful for. There were countless times when she had caught the older brunette staring at her in classes, in the common room, and also at meal times, but she refused to let herself think anything of it. As time went on, she noticed the other girl become more moody and irritable; just last week, she had yelled at a couple of first year girls who were innocently chatting by the fireside. Though Fleur desperately wanted to see what was going on with Hermione, she kept her distance, opting instead to talk to Harry or Ron about what was happening to her.

"So what's going on with Hermione these days?" she had asked Harry as they walked back to the castle from Quidditch practice one night (Ron, who had done particularly horrible in practice that day, decided to return to the castle by himself).

"What do you mean?"

Shrugging, Fleur acted as nonchalantly as possible. "I don't know, she just seems to be withdrawing."

"Well, she's never really opened up to Ron and I before; you were the only one she ever talked to about things. Maybe she's going through something right now." A hard expression slid onto Harry's face. He was bitter at Fleur's attitude towards his friend, especially when it was so obvious that Hermione was going through some kind of depression.

"You're not subtle at all, you know." She bowed her head, letting her hair fall onto her face to shield her expression of worry.

"Why don't you try talking to her?" he suggested. "It'll make her happy. I know she misses you."

There was that feeling again, tugging at heart and screaming at her to take Harry's suggestion and seek out the older girl. _She misses me? God, why does she have to make this so hard?_ "I can't do that." Months had passed and it was still painful to think about Hermione.

"Why not?" They entered the castle and took the staircase that led to the common room.

"I just…can't." Didn't he know how hard this was for her? She wanted to see Hermione, she really did, but it hurt far too much. Fleur was still very much in love with the fiery girl, and she did not want one conversation with her to break down the barriers she had put in place since their fight.

"You can't or you won't?" His temper was rising, but he knew he would never understand the girl walking beside him. It was so obvious that Fleur was in love with Hermione, yet she did everything in her power to stay away from the other girl. Could she not see how Hermione was in love with her too?

"Both. Harry, it's complicated."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true!"

"Then uncomplicated things! You still care about her, that much is obvious. If you didn't care then you wouldn't be here asking me about her," he defended.

Sighing, Fleur stopped walking and ran a hand through her mussed up hair, brushing off some sand that had gotten into it when she fell off her broom. "That's the problem, I still care."

Turning to the blonde, Harry gave her a confused look. "That's a problem?" he said.

"Yes. I wish I didn't care about her like I do." She knew he would not catch her double meaning. If only she did not care about Hermione the way she did, but only cared about her as a friend, then everything would be so much simpler.

"I don't understand you," he stated simply.

Laughing hollowly, she raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Maybe I'll talk to her," she offered. After all, Harry was just looking out for Hermione, something that used to be her job.

"Really?"

A beat. "I don't know yet." And she didn't. Talking to Hermione would break down some of the walls she had built, but maybe it would be worth it if it made the other girl feel better. Not once did she ever wish pain on the other girl, and it physically hurt Fleur to know that she was in pain.

"The months have softened you up," Harry said, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips as he watched the internal battle raging in the blonde. He realized that Fleur really had changed over the past couple of months, becoming more calm and mellow as time went on.

She shrugged casually. "I got tired of being angry. Anger hurts and I'm not a masochist." This was true. Time never stopped, and after being angry for such a long time, Fleur realized that maybe it was time to let it go, but that did not mean she did not have her defenses. Pain was pain, but barriers reflected some of that pain away. With some of the pain gone, she could easily observe what was going on without any biased, and what she saw was a very depressed Hermione. Narcissism was a trait she was not guilty of, but she had a feeling that it was _her_ who was making the other girl sad. Still…she was unwilling to absorb her reflected pain after she worked so hard to rid herself of it.

"What, so you just shut it off?" he asked.

"Sort of. There are just some emotions that I can control really well. Anger is one of them." Too bad she could not control her feelings of love. "Meditation is a great aid though."

"You meditate?"

"Every morning."

"Since when?"

After thinking for a moment, Fleur responded, "September ninth, I believe." It was not lost on either of them that that was the day of Hermione's birthday. That day, she had woken up in a panic, disentangling herself from a sleeping Matt and rushing for an early walk around the castle.

"So how are you and Vaughn doing?" Harry asked curiously, still wondering why the tall blonde even dated him. They resumed their walk back to the common room.

Rubbing her dirty sleeve, Fleur answered, feeling slightly awkward, "We're doing really well actually. He really is an amazing guy…bit of a jerk sometimes though, but not to people who don't deserve it."

"Ah…that's good," he offered, not knowing what else to say.

Two days later the weekend arrived bringing in the first snow and the grounds were covered with glistening white powder when Fleur looked out the window late that morning (she had awoken after eleven). After dressing in some warm clothing, jeans and a black sweatshirt, she grabbed her coat and some gloves and hurried outside. She had love the snow ever since she was little and her and her dad would rush outside and spend hours building a family of snowmen, or having a snowball fight with the other neighbor kids. These days, she preferred to simply admire the beauty of the white mass and mindlessly wonder how this change of scenery always made her feel so calm.

"_Fleur, what are you doing?" Hermione was returning from a visit to Hagrid's hut when she spotted her best friend lying on her back in the snow, staring blankly at the sky._

"_Relaxing," she stated without looking at the other girl. "Would you like to join me?"_

"_It's freezing out here! You're going to catch a cold!" She stood there with her hands on her hips, looking very serious._

_The blonde grinned at how stern Hermione sounded. It was endearing how the older girl could never just let go and live, but always had to think about the consequences of her, and in this case Fleur's, actions. "If I catch a cold, I'll go see Madam Pomfrey; she'll fix me up in a second."_

"_You hate drinking potions," she reminded her._

"_Oh yeah…" Fleur said absently, as though just remembering this tidbit about herself. Shrugging against the snow, her grin widened. "It's worth it though; I love the snow. It's so peaceful." She sighed blissfully._

_Hermione's expression softened as she stared at the obviously happy girl. Pulling out her wand, she whispered a spell that conjured a floating ball of purple flames (a useful spell she had learned from the book Fleur bought her for Christmas). The flame warmed her body as she sat down next to the mellow blonde._

"_What're you doing?" Fleur asked, feeling Hermione lie down next to her (close) and noticing a hovering purple flame that warmed her instantly though did not melt the snow around them._

"_Joining you."_

A sad smile appeared on Fleur's perfect features as she recalled this memory. Times like those gave her hope that she actually had a chance with Hermione. From all the movies and TV shows she watched over the summer, never was there a best friend who was as sweet as the older girl was to her. But that's all it was, wasn't it? Just Hermione being sweet, nothing more. It was her own fault for reading into those situations so deeply and seeing only what she wanted to see.

From a distance, Fleur saw a lone figure standing in the spot where she and Hermione, in their fifth year, had spent more than two hours lying in the snow, speaking softly to one another. She knew that it was Hermione standing there by herself in the cold with no floating, purple flame to keep her warm. Sighing, Fleur made sure that her walls were securely in place before she slowly approached the other girl.

"Hermione?" She reached out with a gloved hand (safety) and touched the other girl's shoulder.

Hermione twitched when Fleur touched her, but she did turn to face the other girl. There were tear treks staining her face and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Her cheeks and nose shined red from the stinging cold and Fleur quickly drew out her wand and conjured a floating blue flame to warm the other girl up.

"You'll melt the snow," Hermione noted dully.

Her voice was so full of sadness that Fleur struggled to maintain control of her barriers. "I never learned how to conjure a purple flame," she said lightly.

The blue flame vanished and was replaced by a vibrant purple fire ball. Hermione stored her wand back in her pocket and said weakly, "You love the snow."

Confused at the other girl's behavior, Fleur did not know how to respond, so instead, she said, "I wanted to talk to you…" She smoothed some hair behind her ear, feeling very awkward (a rare occurrence when in the presence of Hermione).

"You told me to stay away from you," Hermione said as monotonously as Fleur had the night of their fight. She made eye contact with the blonde, who was blown away at the rage of emotion she saw. "So I did."

"Hermione…are you okay," Fleur asked, feeling slightly shaken at the way the other girl was acting. She seemed so…lifeless.

"I didn't want to stay away, but I did. Because you asked me to." Still monotonous.

"Hermione?" The brunette barely seemed to notice Fleur's presence.

"But it hurts so badly to stay away, because I love you." She looked at the blonde but did not seem to actually see her.

Wincing, Fleur said, "I told you not to say that."

And suddenly, life eased back into Hermione's eyes and she looked startled when she saw that Fleur was standing in front of her, looking extremely worried. "Fleur…what are you doing here?"

Bewildered, her brow furrowed. "I came to see how you were…"

A touch of a dejected smile edged onto Hermione's lips. "In all honesty, I've been better."

"It's just…I've _seen_ you and how depressed you've seem to become."

A hardened expression slid onto her face. "Well, whose fault is that?"

"What?" The wind picked up and the flame blew away before it came zooming back, casting a purple glow on the brunette's features.

She scoffed, her face an expression of wicked anger. "You don't get to play the innocent one here," Hermione snarled.

If Fleur ever thought Hermione was unattractive, now would be the time for her to think so. It seemed that the other girl had become as angry as Fleur used to feel, which saddened the blonde for she had never truly wanted that for her. "I'm not trying to play innocent. I came here to apologize," she said truthfully.

"Apologize? Are you serious?" Her voice had become very shrill and she laughed a humorless laugh. "That's rich. You don't so much as look at me for two months and _now_ you want to apologize?"

She bit her tongue, not wanting to say anything that would further anger the girl in front of her. Her heart pounded in her chest and suddenly the warmth of the flame became stifling so as she tugged uncomfortably at the collar of her sweatshirt. The first of her walls cracked open. Obviously, Hermione had been really affected by her behavior, and now that Fleur had managed to calm down (over the months), she realized the severity of her actions. Now that she wasn't running on anger anymore, she could come to regret how cruel she had been. Had she honestly expect Hermione to welcome her back with open arms? The older girl was always so cautious of how she acted; she thought carefully about what she did or said, conscious of other people's feelings. And Fleur, who lacked this quality, usually spoke without thinking and let emotions cloud her judgment so as she behaved horribly at times…and now…well, now it was time to face the consequences. Reaching out to touch her arm, she said, "I really am sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry for everything I did and said to you."

She stepped out of the blonde's reach. "Fuck you!" she whispered hatefully.

Fleur was floored with the amount of fury the brunette threw at her. "Hermione…" It seemed her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth because she could say no more than the girl's name. Never had Hermione acted this ferociously towards her before; it unsettled her quite a bit.

She had a wild look in her eyes. "I really hate how it always is between me and you; everything always has to be on your terms." She glared, her face looking demonic in the purple glow. "I can't talk to you because you want me to stay away, we can't be friends because it's "too painful" for you. Did you _ever_ once stop to think about how I might feel about anything? No!" Fleur tried to interrupt her, but Hermione cut her off. "You are honestly the most selfish person I've ever met, and that's saying a _lot_ as I've been so unfortunate to meet people like Draco Malfoy!"

Ashamed, Fleur hung her head, realizing that everything Hermione said was true. She _had_ been so incredibly selfish, only looking out for herself and never pausing to think how about how Hermione may feel.

"Well, now it's my turn to be selfish," Hermione said. Her voice had lowered in volume and pitch and her face looked more like the girl she knew (beautiful). "Now, I get to tell you how I feel."

"Please do," Fleur whispered, knowing she deserved anything the brunette said to her, and she mentally braced herself for a verbal onslaught.

Expecting to hear another angry rant about how horrible she had been, she was completely shocked when she heard Hermione's next words. "I'm in love with you, Fleur."

She blinked. "Excuse me?" she asked, wondering if she heard correctly.

"I'm in love with you," she breathed. Fleur felt her legs buckle and she began to feel faint. "You just…" She struggled to find the right words. "You never gave me the chance to tell you because you were too centered on yourself and what _you_ were feeling." She sighed sadly and broke eye contact for a moment before staring deep into the younger girl's beautifully blue eyes. Mustering up all the emotion and sincerity she could, she finally admitted, "You have no idea how badly I want you and you have no idea how much it _kills_ me that someone else gets to have what should have always been mine."

With that, she rushed off, leaving a stupefied Fleur behind staring wide-eyed at the spot where Hermione stood moments before.

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A/N: The next chapter will be up some time tomorrow, so you guys won't have to wait too long. It's pretty much written already (as well as the sixth chapter), but I need to go back and edit the story a bit. 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Never Lost

Rating: Pg-13, language

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: All Fleur ever wanted was to be with Hermione, but she was shot down. It is now their sixth year and Fleur's moved on, but she notices that Hermione is acting very strangely...

Background Story: Fleur is muggle born and she moved to England with her father when her parents got a divorce when she was six. She is in the same year and house as Hermione.

A/N: Here is the fifth chapter, as promised. I wrote the second part of this chapter before I wrote the first part so I had to go back and do a lot of editing...a _lot_. This chapter's about 2000 words longer than the original, though the original was missing the first scene. I'm actually really proud with what I've done on this one. I think I've managed to properly capture their emotions and thoughts better than I have before. I hope you enjoy!

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"_You have no idea how badly I want you and you have no idea how much it kills me that someone else gets to have what should have always been mine."_

The minutes passed by and Fleur still had not moved. She stared vacantly at the spot Hermione had just left, the words, _"What should have always been mine," _echoing in her mind over and over again. Her body felt numb and she was no longer aware of her surroundings, could no longer feel the harsh, cold wind sting her red cheeks (the purple flame had disappeared when Hermione left), nor hear the faint sound of Fang barking loudly in Hagrid's hut nearby. Stricken, Fleur wondered if Hermione was really in love with her. If she was then why had she never said anything before? _Why?_ And suddenly, she felt angry again. Beginning in the pit of her stomach, rage slowly crept through her veins and she resisted the urge to go and kick something (the nearest thing she could kick was a tree ten yards away). Where did the other girl get off telling her that it was her selfishness that prevented Hermione from telling Fleur how she felt? _She should have fucking told me how she felt!_ she thought furiously. _Why the fuck did she wait until now to tell me? Why did she wait until I had all my walls up and was finally almost starting to get over everything to tell me this? Why didn't she tell me months ago how she felt, back when I wanted to be with her so badly? _I'm_ the selfish one? _Me_? What about her? It was fucking selfish of her to wait this long to tell me! She could have had me! This is her own fault! How could she do this to me? She knew how I felt…_

Feeling almost savage, Fleur finally left the spot she had been standing, and stormed up to the castle, almost tripping over her feet in haste to get to her destination. She intended to go straight to Gryffindor common room, find Hermione, and give the girl a piece of her mind._ Fuck her! She loves me, huh? Well, if she really loved me, she would have fucking told me already instead of killing me the way she did!_ And that's when it hit her, so hard that she had to stop and brace herself against the cold, stone wall; Hermione _had_ told her she loved her, hadn't she? Recalling the memory the memory of their fight, Fleur stared, stricken, at the moving portrait of a sixteenth century family in front of her.

_Hermione's cool fingertips were touching the back of her hand and she was dimly aware that this was the first skin-on-skin contact she had had with the girl in so many months. It stung Fleur to have the brunette touching her hand so tenderly. "I miss you, Fleur…I just want you back." Her voice was a whisper now and the blonde struggled to hear her over the pounding in her ears._

_Why did she have to make this so hard? Couldn't Hermione see that she was dying on the inside? Hearing her say she missed her…it was too much to deal with. And since the brunette wanted nothing more than friendship, than Fleur really felt like she had nothing to offer her because she couldn't just be her friend. "Hermione…please don't…please don't do this to me again. I can't go through this again." She was pleading now, begging Hermione with her eyes to just leave her alone._

_The older girl's grip tightened on her hand. "Why can't we just forget the past? I love you, Fleur."_

_Her jaw tightened and her eyes flashed fierce, her brow furrowing into a look of anger. She jerked her hand away (relief) and stepped back, feeling her legs tremble beneath her. "Don't say that." Her voice was raising now. "Do not ever say that!"_

"_But it's true! I do love you!"_

"_Shut up, just shut up!"_

Why hadn't she actually listened to Hermione? Shaking her head remorsefully, Fleur really did kick something now, slamming her foot into the wall over and over again, ignoring the sharp pain shooting down her toes. The physical pain was almost enough to distract her from the flurry of emotion raging through her (masochism). Her hair was a silvery mess and, if she were to look in a mirror, her eyes had turned a dark, midnight blue, something that usually only happened when she was feeling extreme emotion. If only…if only she had asked for clarification on what Hermione had meant when she said she loved her…if only she could have sucked up her pride and not tell her to shut up, but actually _listen_ to the girl's words. Tears of blazing regret ran down her face and she stopped kicking the wall. Why had she pushed the other girl away so much? But once again, Fleur's bipolar mood swings kicked in and she felt herself getting angry again. If Hermione really loved her, she would have _made_ Fleur listen to what she had to say instead of merely accepting the blonde's request to stay away from her. This was _her_ fault, not Fleur's. Paying no attention to pain on her foot, she continued towards the common room, pausing to talk to no one on the way (several people had called her name but she ignored them completely).

"Acromorph," Fleur muttered to the Fat Lady, who swung open the portrait hole. Inside was not very crowded; students were either outside enjoying the early snowfall, or in the library studying. She saw Hermione nowhere in the common room, and briefly wondered if this was even where the other girl had come. However, she could see Matt sitting at a table in the far corner scribbling on a piece of parchment. Intending to slip right by him to go and check the girls' dormitories, she shut her eyes in irritation when she heard him call out her name.

"Hey, Fleur!"

Exhaling sharply, she put on her fakest of smiles and turned to her boyfriend, who had gotten up and approached her (she was only steps away from the staircase). "Hey," she smiled brightly, ignoring the pounding feeling in her chest.

He looked very pleased to see her, giving her a toothy grin before he leaned down to kiss her. Turning her head away, his cool lips landed on her cheek and he looked baffled for a minute before shaking it off. "So I'm almost done with my Transfiguration homework and Tyler, Steve, Rex, and Annette are having a snowball fight on grounds if you want to go join them." (Seventh years). He eyed her coat but said nothing (she had never told him about her love for the snow).

"Yeah, sure," she said absently, not really hearing his request. As soon as he started talking, she tuned him out, her thoughts clouded with what might happen with Hermione.

"Great! I'll be done in five minutes or so, so if you want to wait for me here or go down now…"

"Actually, Matt." He looked at her expectantly. "Have you seen Hermione come through here lately?" The library would be the next place she looked if Hermione was not there.

Scratching the back of his head, he thought for a moment. "Um, yeah, I think so; she came in a few minutes ago but went straight to her dorm. Why?"

"Need to talk to her," she said quickly, but she was already flying up the staircase so she did not see his expression of curiosity. Fleur was angry, there was no doubt about that, but now was the time to get everything sorted out. _You have no idea how much it kills me that someone else gets to have what should have always been mine…_ She threw open the door and barely registered the bang it made before she grabbed the handle and slammed it shut (thankfully, neither Lavender nor Parvati were in the room). "What the hell do you want from me?" Fleur exclaimed, her hands clenched in angry fists at her side

Hermione, who was standing next to her dresser, was drying the tears off her face with a tissue. Her cheeks were red with emotion and her eyes blazed with sadness as she felt hopelessness spread through her entire body. It was not a nice feeling knowing that if only she had figured out her feelings for the younger girl before she shunned Hermione from her life, then everything would be okay, they would be in the dormitory doing other things rather than always fighting with each other. "I just want _you_." Her voice was very high pitched and it cracked with the last word.

When tears began to fall down Hermione's face again, Fleur's wall crumbled slightly and she cursed herself for being so weak. The one thing she desperately wanted with all her heart finally came true…but at the worst time…"No. No!" She would not cave in, not this time, she couldn't. Taking a furious step forward, she shook her fist. "You _had_ me, Hermione, you fucking had me! I would've walked through hell and back if it meant that I had even the smallest of chances with you, okay? I was in love with you!" She was yelling now and would not be surprised if the entire Gryffindor tower heard her words. "But_you_ turned me down when I told you how I felt."

"I was confused!" She was openly crying now, her eyes red from the falling tears. "You were my _best_ friend, I thought what I was feeling was normal friendship, I had no idea that I actually had feelings for you."

Fleur felt a golf-ball sized lump form in her throat as she listened to Hermione and was pissed that the other girl's words actually made sense. "What about when I kissed you? If you had feelings for me, you would have _known_ it after I kissed you!"

"I was in shock, okay?" she shrieked. "My best friend had just kissed me; I didn't know what I was feeling. And you didn't give me any time to figure things out."

"You told me you didn't like me in that way! You _told_me! You never asked for time! If you had just asked, none of this shit would've happened!" There was a glass globe on her dresser that her father had given her for her birthday and now Fleur took it and smashed it into the floor. Hermione flinched and clenched her eyes shut as it shattered into a thousand pieces. "I would've given you time! I loved you so much, I would've waited my entire life for you to figure it out." She felt panicked now, her breathing had picked up, her heart was thundering painfully in her chest, and she was starting to lose feeling in her arms. _Why didn't she ever say anything? WHY?! Oh my god…_It finally begun to hit her that Hermione was telling the truth, and she started to lose feeling in her body. It all made sense now…

"What if it turned out I didn't feel anything for you other than friendship? What would've happened if I'd asked you to wait and I let you down? I could never do that to you." Hermione wanted to reach out and wrap her arms around the obviously distraught girl and comfort her, tell her that everything would be all right now. The truth was finally out…everything would be okay now…wouldn't it?

_I need…I need to sit down…_Fleur quickly sat at the edge of her bed before she fell over and stared at Hermione her eyes wide with sorrow and remorse. She was right, of course, it would have killed her even more if Hermione had made her wait and it ended with nothing. Why was she always right? How did she always manage to think so logically?

"I told you I still wanted to be your friend," she began, her voice a lot softer than earlier. "It _killed_me when you started to push me away." Fleur bowed her head; she listened to the other girl, but did not speak for she was resisting the need to throw up. "But I let you because I wasn't sure what I was feeling yet."

Fleur swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "When did you figure it out?" Her voice sounded extremely hoarse, like her vocal chords had been mutilated by a garden rake.

"When we were in the Ministry," was her answer.

"The Ministry?" She dimly recalled Hermione's adventure in the Department of Mysteries, and thanked god that she the other girl still wore the ring she had given her. If anything had happened to her…

"Yes…I thought I was going to die there, I was so frightened that night, and all I could think about was you. I regretted so much that I never gave you a chance. All I wanted was to be in your arms because that is the only place I have ever really felt safe. I wanted to be able to hold you, kiss you… make love to you…" Fleur had to strain to hear because her voice had dropped to below a whisper.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Fleur, you were being openly hostile towards me, I thought you hated me. In the beginning of July, I finally plucked up the courage and wrote you a letter about how I felt. You never replied back, so I wrote another one, and you still didn't reply back. I thought you still hated me then."

Fleur remembered the letters she had torn up over the summer after she recognized Hermione's handwriting on the envelope. The first one had arrived days before Lavender's party. "I shredded them," she admitted quietly.

Hermione smiled humorlessly and shook her head, her fingers playing with the golden ring on her right middle finger (nervous habit, Fleur remembered). "Imagine how agonizing it was for me to return to our dormitory on the first day of term to find you not there…and have Lavender tell me you were spending the night in your _boyfriend's_ room." She spat out the word 'boyfriend' as though it were some foul swear word.

"I'm so sorry," Fleur whispered. The city of walls she had built in defense against Hermione finally crumbled down and she knew now that she wanted nothing more than to be with the older girl. Every bit of pain and rage she had felt these past months had been for nothing, it was something she put herself through. Free falling from the top of the Astronomy tower sounded like a bright idea right now; she had hurt Hermione the same way Hermione originally hurt her, and she wanted to die from knowing she caused the other girl pain. It had to be worse for the other girl though, worse than it had been for Fleur…the blonde had no idea what she would have done if Hermione had started to date someone (Ron)…no idea at all.

"I need to know something," Hermione stated. Until she heard the words come from Fleur, she would not let herself go and comfort the other girl, who seemed to be bordering a breakdown.

"Anything."

"Do you still…do you still love me?" she asked, holding her breath and almost dreading the answer, though she already had a feeling of what it would be.

Fleur looked up at Hermione's expressionless face.

"_How do you know? How do you always know what I'm feeling?" Hermione wondered. The pair of them lay on a blanket in the Weasely's backyard watching the meteor shower fall from the heavens above._

"_That was random," Fleur responded absently, unconsciously playing with the brunette's fingers as her eyes darted all over the night sky, not wanting to miss any of the meteors again (Hermione was much better at spotting them than she). _

_Shrugging, the other girl huddled closer to the blonde, seeking out extra warmth against the chilly air. "I was just thinking about it is all. I can't ever really hide anything from you because you always know."_

_A meteor whizzed through the sky and Fleur felt pleased that she had seen it (and not Hermione). She thought for a moment. "The eyes are the window to the soul," she said rather poetically, though she ruined it a moment later by chuckling._

"_You can tell just by looking at my eyes?" _

_Sighing relaxingly, Fleur nodded. "Mm hmm."_

"_Every time?" she asked curiously._

"_Always."_

Countless times before, she had told Hermione that no matter how hard she tried to mask what she was feeling behind an impassive face; Fleur could always tell what was going on inside of her because it was all in the eyes. Her eyes always gave her away. And right now, they shrieked with hope.

"Yes," she said.

"I need to hear you to say it," Hermione pleaded.

"I love you, Hermione Granger," she declared, not wavering eye contact once and watching her expressions shift from hope to relief to happiness. For the first time that night, a true smile lit Hermione's face, granted, it was a very soft smile.

"I love you too, Fleur Delacour."

Smiling grimly, she realized that she was not as happy to hear these words as she would have been a year ago. Too much had happened, and she was dimly aware that she was already in a relationship with someone. "So what happens now?" she asked wonderingly.

Hermione shrugged helplessly, looking just as lost as she was. "I dunno…" She sat next to Fleur on the bed, letting their hands rest against each other, barely touching.

"Well, what do you want from me?"

Laughing dryly, she said, "I already told you what I want, Fleur."

After a moment's hesitation, Fleur stated, "I'm going to kiss you."

Pause. "Okay."

The moment their lips touched, Fleur's heart nearly leapt out of her chest from racing so fast. Unlike the muggle movies she had watched over the summer or the romance novels she was guiltily addicted to, time did not stop, nor did a symphony of violins begin to play in passionate harmony. However, every trace of coherent thought faded from her mind. She was still able to hear the dull chatter of girls making their way up and down the dormitory behind the door, but it was distant, so far away that she could barely even comprehend it.

This kiss was very soft and tentative. The two girls slowly rubbed their lips against one another's, familiarizing themselves with the taste and feel of the other's mouth. Through her thick haze of euphoric bliss, Fleur noticed the hesitation in the way Hermione moved her lips. It was an awkward movement, one, Fleur could tell, she was not used to.

She reluctantly ended the kiss by lightly kissing Hermione's bottom lip and pulling back to look at the other girl. Hermione's eyes were still closed with her mouth slightly open, and she had her hands on top of the blonde's, which was resting comfortably on her hip; her other hand was bracing herself against the bed. _She is so beautiful,_ Fleur thought adoringly as she admired the way the brunette's wavy hair fell to just below her shoulders and how kissable her lips always looked.

Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes. Words could not describe how utterly amazing she felt just by kissing the gorgeous blonde. It was almost enough to make her forget about how terribly nervous she felt. Unfortunately, she was hyper aware, and agonizingly bitter and jealous, that Fleur was much more experienced than her, and she could not quell the feeling of embarrassment that made her want to apologize for kissing her with such inexperienced lips.

Fleur noticed that Hermione's ears had turned red, and that the blood was slowly making its way to her cheeks. For a moment, she felt extremely insecure and frightened that Hermione had changed her mind all over again about her feelings for her. Had she not liked the kiss? "What is it?" Her voice was a nervous squeak.

After a moment, Hermione replied, "Victor is the only person I've ever kissed."

She nodded bitterly. "I know." Why was she telling her this? Why bring that up now? She should know that this was something dreadfully painful for her to talk, or even think, about. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You're more experienced than I am." Hermione ignored the stab in her heart and tried to focus on the fact that Fleur had just kissed her and told her she loved her. She was not out in the common room with Matthew, but here with her. But that was the problem, wasn't it? Matthew, the blonde's boyfriend. Yet another obstacle she needed to overcome. Hermione sighed; she was so sick of obstacles. Why couldn't life be easy for once? If there was one thing she wanted to work out, it was this, and she was tired of things always getting in the way. But that was life, wasn't it? Never easy.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Shit, Matt. In her haze of bliss, Fleur had almost forgotten about him. What she and Hermione were doing, it was cheating, and she was dreadfully aware of it.

"I don't want to disappoint you," Hermione admitted. It was embarrassing for her to say, but she was consciously aware of it and was worried she would not even compare with the boy Fleur was currently dating.

"Disappoint me?" She sighed in relief when that was all that the other girl was worried about. "Hermione, you could never disappoint me."

After Hermione raised her eyebrows, Fleur quickly added, "With kissing, I mean. Or any other form of…physicality. If there's something you're not comfortable with, we'll work on it together. No worries, okay?" Truthfully, Hermione was not the best kisser, but neither was she when she first started dating Matt. As awkward as it was at first, she slowly learned and grew more confident, and hopefully Hermione would have that same attitude.

"Okay." She did not know what else to say. She was ecstatic to hear Fleur say they would work on it together. This meant that there would be more to come. Less obstacles? Probably not, she realized.

She cupped the brunette's face and said, "Hermione, I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that." And nothing would. She realized that over the summer when she could not let herself get over Hermione completely. Her anger had completely disappeared by that point, though it was not replaced with happiness but with dread. What was going to happen to them?

Lips twitching into a smile, Hermione said, "I love you too."

The dormitory door creaked open and Fleur just managed to pull her hand away from Hermione's face before Lavender poked her head inside. "Matt's looking for you," she said to Fleur, eyeing the girls, an eyebrow raised just a hint. "He's saying something about a snowball fight."

"Tell him I'll be down in a minute," was her answer.

Lavender nodded, gave her a curious look, and left. They listened to her steps fade away until it was silent once again.

Fleur felt like she had been slapped. Here they were, their love mutually declared for one another, but with the real world waiting just outside the door, the world where she had a boyfriend who was madly in love with her. Why were things always so complicated? Why couldn't they return to the simplicity of last year? _Time goes on_, Fleur realized._ That's why._

"You should go," Hermione whispered, her voice shaking slightly. And here was the obstacle standing in the way of her being truly happy. Her eyes began to water as she stared dejectedly at her shoes.

"Yeah…" Fleur stood up and went to the door. She looked back at Hermione, who was staring at her feet, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and then turned around and left.

God fucking damn the real world.

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A/N: I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter up. I'll probably have it finished by tomorrow, but if not, then it'll be up by Sunday. Please let me know what you guys think about this one! And thank you to everyone who reviewed! 


	6. Chapter 6

There seemed to be an abnormal amount of people in the common room that night when Fleur returned from Quidditch practice, though, she knew, it was no more crowded than it normally was. She blamed it on the fact that she had a lot of homework to catch up on and her fellow Gryffindors were being extra loud because it was a Saturday night. It did not help that she couldn't concentrate on what she was doing because of the noise level, and she wanted to get her work done because she was desperate to go and spend some time with Hermione, who she had not spoken to since she left the common room earlier that afternoon. Right now, she could see the other girl sitting across the common room with Harry and Ron, watching the pair of them play a game of chess over the book she was reading. _She's probably got all her homework done,_ the blonde figured as she pulled out her Charms text book, intending to begin her essay on the properties of creating new charms.

A few minutes later, when Fleur was finishing the introduction, Matt plopped down on the couch next to her. He muttered an exhausted greeting before he rested his head on her left shoulder.

"What's up?" Fleur asked, wondering why the boy seemed so tired when just hours before he was cracking (safe, not crude) jokes at dinner. She looked at her barely begun essay for a moment and then pushed it away from her, offering him her full attention.

He groaned tiredly and rubbed his face into her shoulder, but she kept her hands (stiffly) in her lap, throwing a quick glance at Hermione, who seemed to be bickering with Ron about something. "I just got back from the hospital wing." He pulled back the sleeve to his shirt and showed her the thickly bandaged arm.

"What happened?" she asked, alarmed. As Head Boy, it was Matt's job to patrol the corridors after hours from ten to eleven every other night (Head Girl did the other nights) and give detention to anyone he caught out of bed.

"A Hufflepuff second year didn't read the warning label on a box of the Weasely's fireworks…it was pretty bad. The entire corridor leading to their common room was covered in smoke and then one of them fireworks wrapped itself around my arm. Burned like hell and Madam Pomfrey's only just finished with me. I have to go back to the hospital wing tomorrow so she can give me some anti-scar ointment for my arm." He sighed dramatically as though he expected sympathy from his girlfriend.

Fleur laughed. "Wow, that reminds me of this one time over the summer; my muggle friends and I were in a park after hours with a bunch of fireworks and my friend James accidently threw one at our other friend's car. Wouldn't have been nearly as funny if her doors and windows hadn't been opened, but still…she chased him around for a bit. And she's pretty tall; so she could've kicked his ass if she had been able to catch him."

Chuckling, Matt finally sat up. His hair was disheveled and his face was covered in soot but he still looked very handsome. "A car's that thing with the four wheels, right? The muggle form of transportation?" His warm brown eyes always gave the impression that he truly cared about everything Fleur had to say. She found it sweet.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "My dad finally let me drive his this summer. It was pretty fun, though I didn't really do too well. There was one time where we were driving in a neighborhood and he had to dive across and jerk the wheel or I was going to head straight into a car I kind of didn't see." Truthfully, she did not find driving to be that exciting; it was spending time with her dad that she loved. Times like those were so rare these days, bordering on nonexistent.

"That does sound like fun. You think you'll drive more when you go home for Christmas?" He looked genuinely interested, his brow raised, encouraging her to continue.

She shrugged and bit her lip, unconsciously fiddling with a strand of wet hair (she had just showered). "I don't know. I don't usually go home for Christmas. I used to back when I first started school, but my dad usually has business trips around that time of year now. He works for a clothing company and that's usually when they're making the most money, so he has to travel a lot."

"Oh…" She knew he was struggling to find something to say. "How does that make you feel?"

Shrugging again, she answered sadly, "I've gotten used to it."

"Well, what about your mum? She lives in France, right? Or your sister? I remember she was the Beauxbatons champion in the Triwizard Tournanment."

She shook her head. "I'm only allowed to spend a month with my mother every year. The muggle courts were pretty strict about it. She committed fraud according to my dad, which was why they got a divorce. He couldn't prove the fraud accusation, which is the only reason why I actually do get to see my mother."

"How come your sister doesn't live with you and your dad then?"

"She's only my half sister. My mum had her before she and my dad even met. He could have filed for custody of Gabrielle too, but he didn't because he couldn't afford to raise her at the time. He only got the job he has now like three years after the divorce." Fleur, who was not used to talking about her family such detail with people other than Hermione, felt slightly awkward at revealing this to him. Subconsciously, she did not want him to judge her, actually caring what he thought of her.

"That's pretty rough," he responded, looking solemn. "Do you like spending time with your dad or your mum more?"

"My mum, by far. Making money isn't the highlight of her life like it is with my dad. I can't really blame my dad though; he grew up with nothing. He's actually American, but his adopted parents were French. They were pretty pour so my dad grew up only ever getting the things he _needed_, so when he actually started making money, it was like a dream come true. He sends money to my grandparents in the US every month, which is about the only really good thing he's done with it."

Matt was slouching against the couch now with his tilted against the back as he listened to what Fleur said. Grabbing her hand, he began to massage soft circles with his thumb onto the back. "You know, it's just occurred to me that you've never really talked about your family before," he said, a curious expression on his face.

Fleur, who had been staring at the fire while she spoke, turned to him now. He gazed at her the way she gazed at Hermione: with tenderness that can only be associated with love. She ignored the feeling of guilt growing in the pit of her stomach. "I haven't," she said, shaking her head softly.

"Why not?" He shifted so that his right leg, his left leg was hanging off the couch, and his whole upper body was facing her. "Fleur, I want to know everything about you," he said seriously. "Anything and everything."

Her heart lurched shamefully, and she did not say anything. The amount that Matt cared for her complicated things greatly. She had no experience in breaking up with someone for she had never done it before, always too caught up on her feelings for Hermione to even pay the slightest attention to anyone else, but now…now she almost wished she had dated someone because then it would give her some idea of what to do. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, and it's obvious that if she broke up with him, that would be exactly what she was doing.

"Fleur?" He interrupted her thoughts, clearly wanting her to say something.

She shook her head, suddenly feeling annoyed that every time she did this, hair would fall in her face, and she made a mental note to start tying her hair back more often. Smoothing it out of the way, she said, "Sorry, spaced out there for a second."

"What were you thinking about?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm just…" She attempted to find the right words. "I'm not used to telling people about myself. I like to listen to people, more than talk, you know?" That sounded stupid, even to her ears, however Matt nodded his head in understanding.

"It's okay. Just something for us to work on, right? That's what a relationship is all about: giving, taking, learning, understanding." His voice was soft as he spoke, his accent barely sounding at all, and Fleur wondered if he only spoke this quietly so as others around would not hear him. Others, mainly his dorm mates, made fun of him every time he showed any sign of soft emotion. Sure, he acted tough and 'manly' to others' faces, but he really let his guard down around Fleur, and that was something she completely understood for she acted one way with most people, but became a whole different person whenever she and Hermione were alone. Hermione was the only person she could be herself around one hundred percent.

"You're sweet," she said, smiling softly. _How am I possibly going to break up with him? Anything I do is going to hurt him…_

His smile looked even whiter when contrasted to his soot covered face and Fleur felt her heart tug painfully. She was in love with Hermione, yes, but she had also really fallen for Matthew over the months. How could she not? He was a great guy, always caring and considerate of Fleur and what he thought she was feeling. There were times where she would get irritated with him, yes, but the same held true about Hermione: you couldn't like _everything_ about one person, could you? It was impossible with so many different personality types and habits. There was no question on who she cared for more, however, she felt like she was betraying both of them, having feelings for both. The best thing to do would be to end things with Matt as soon as possible, but she did not want to lose him as a friend, which would be likely to happen. She had gotten so used to having him around that _not_ having him around would seem too dramatic a change. Thinking of Hermione, though, Fleur realized that the fiery brunette would be enough; she did not need Matthew anymore now that she had Hermione back. The thought brought a beaming smile to her lips. If someone would have told her twenty four hours ago that she and Hermione had made up (and became so much more than they were before), she would have been furious at them for even saying something like that. Never did she think that she and the older girl would be in the spot they were in now. It was going to be difficult though, Fleur knew, because even after ended things with Matt, there would be so many obstacles they would need to overcome.

The first step was to break up with Matt; Fleur would not let herself think about any other obstacle before she overcame this one. But staring at him as he retreated to the boys' dormitory for a shower, she knew it was going to be extremely difficult.

* * *

"Fleur, I honestly have no idea what I'm doing!" Hermione whispered through the dark, feeling very flustered, but also slightly frustrated.

The two girls were on Fleur's bed; the blonde was sitting against the headboard with her legs stretched straight out in front of her, while Hermione straddled her lap. They had the drapes fastened shut and the brunette had placed a silencing charm on the curtains, fearful that Lavender or Parvati, who were both in bed sleeping, would hear them making out. She and the taller girl had been in this position for the past ten minutes (Fleur had finished her homework very late) and so far, it was the blonde who had made all the moves for Hermione was too nervous that she would mess up and do something wrong.

"Just go with it," Fleur muttered as she ran her hands up and down the brunette's sides, letting her hands stray and go up her pajama top, conscious not to let her hands touch Hermione's bare breasts. She kissed her lips and then blazed a hot trail down her neck, pausing to suck on her collar bone. When the brunette gasped, Fleur grinned, pleased that she had found another sweet spot.

When the other girl stopped and sucked on her collar bone, Hermione felt an embarrassing surge of arousal and hoped that Fleur would not notice. Her breathing was very heavy now and everything the blonde did to her felt so incredibly good. "I don't know what you want me to do," Hermione breathed out, trying her best not to pant as the other girl continued to work on her neck.

"Do anything you want." She was enjoying herself far too much as this was the first time her and Hermione had ever really made out (conflicting schedules and nerves were a difficult opponent to overcome) and this was also the first time where she could feel turned on by the other girl without feeling guilty.

"Yes, but _what_?"

Fighting back a laugh for the sake of Hermione's feelings, Fleur merely smiled, very amused at the situation they were in. The brunette's nerves really were the most adorable thing. Normally, if Hermione did not know how to do things the correct way, she did not like to do them, that's the way it always was with her, even in situations like this apparently. Even now, it seemed very endearing, but Fleur decided to bestow mercy on the other girl and help her out a bit. "Normally, you're supposed to try and figure these things out on your own," she panted slightly, out of breath from kissing Hermione's neck and also from feeling so turned on. "But, I'll let you in on a couple of things," she said quickly when she saw Hermione's lost expression through the dark. "First." She kissed the other girl's lips. "I like having my neck kissed or sucked on, no teeth though; I'm not a big fan of teeth." She ran her hands along the inside of Hermione's back, rubbing the steaming skin gently and bringing her, if possible, even closer. "Second; ears, earlobes, it feels really nice to be kissed there and biting down is fine…as long as it's gentle biting." As in example, she leaned forward, sucked Hermione's earlobe into her mouth and ran her tongue along it, gently biting down. She gasped and her hips reflexively jumped forward. "That's another thing you can do too. Grind your hips back and forward," she said, going off the other girl's hip thrust. "Get pressure on the right spot and it feels _really_ good. Especially if you're really horny."

"Fleur!" she exclaimed, blushing at the blonde's choice of words.

She shrugged. "What? It's true." The taller girl was strongly tempted to buck her hips upwards to show Hermione just how good it felt (she knew the other girl was turned on, though it was obvious she was trying to hide it and it excited her to know that it was her who was causing it), but she thought it might be a little too much. Perhaps the 'horny' comment was too much as well?

The dark hid the deepening blush that came to Hermione's face, thankfully, and she considered Fleur's words. What she said, it didn't seem like it would be too hard to do, did it? "Okay…"

"Is it really?"

Biting her swollen lip, she shrugged. "I don't know honestly."

Fleur sighed and cupped Hermione's face with both hands. "Look, we don't have to do anything you're not ready for. It's honestly okay, I really don't mind." Slight lie, but mostly true.

"It's not that I'm not ready…I'm just a little lost on how to do all of this," she admitted, feeling slightly awkward. Her unkempt hair had managed to fall in her face and she smiled when Fleur tenderly smoothed it back.

"Don't worry about it. We all feel the same way when we first start," she said, trying to make the other girl feel more comfortable. "But if you really feel like you have no idea what to do, just do to me what I do to you. Generally, I do to you what I know I like."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Mm hmm."

Playfully hitting Fleur's shoulder, Hermione said, "Well, why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Because you only just asked now." She blinked innocently at the older girl.

"You're horrible!"

She gave her an eyebrow shrug before moving in and attaching their lips firmly together. At least Hermione was getting more comfortable (better) with the kissing, which was the only thing they had managed to do this past week because Fleur was weighed down in homework and extra Quidditch practices (first game of the season was next weekend). Not to mention Matthew…who she still had not broken up with.

"So you're feeling okay now?" Fleur asked, breaking away after several seconds.

"I think so…" She didn't sound too sure of herself, but there was rarely a challenge that Hermione wasn't up to conquering. In a way, making out was like brewing a potion: she needed to add ingredients (actions) and stir them correctly to make the potion work properly (succeeding in making Fleur feel good). This was a particularly awkward challenge, but she knew, with the blonde's reassurances, that she would get better. And hopefully she wouldn't embarrass herself too much.

It was awkward, to say the least; Hermione could barely focus on what the other girl was doing to her for she far too busy concentrating on what she was doing to Fleur. She had no idea what to do with her hands, so she took the blonde's advice and did to her what the younger girl did, and ran her hands everywhere she could reach, however, due to the position she was in, she awkwardly brushed against Fleur's breasts. Blushing profusely, she placed her hands firmly on the other girl's shoulders after this.

"Try kissing my neck," Fleur breathed into the kiss, urging the girl to try something new.

Nervously, Hermione trailed her lips down the blonde's neck and, feeling awkward, began to kiss the offered skin. Pausing to suck on one spot, she was surprised when Fleur moaned, but she continued, realizing that the other girl liked what she was doing, and felt pleased that she had managed to draw a reaction.

It amazed Fleur at how turned on she felt just by making out with the other girl because even Matt couldn't draw this kind of reaction from her with just kissing (he had other ways). Though Hermione's movements were awkward (unpracticed), she still felt absolutely amazing, and nearly went wild when the brunette began kissing her neck. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was heavy; her hair, which she had remembered to tie up, now fell into her face once again but she was too focused on the other girl to barely notice. A moment later, Fleur realized that with the way Hermione was sucking on her neck, she was going to leave hickey…not that she cared; she would simply cover it up in the morning. Right now though, it felt so incredibly good.

"You see," the blonde said when Hermione began kissing her lips again. "That wasn't so hard."

"I still felt awkward," she admitted.

"That'll go away," Fleur assured her.

Giving the brunette's lips a series of short kisses, Fleur began to push her backwards, and, after a moment, Hermione realized what she was trying to do, so she braced her hands behind her and helped the blonde maneuver their position so that she was lying on top of the Hermione. It felt a little weird to have someone lying in between her legs like that, but it was a good kind of weird, and when the other girl shifted her hips, it sent a bolt of pleasure through her body, causing her to groan, and Fleur to grin into the kiss. While the blonde began kissing her neck, Hermione decided that it was safe to move her hands again and she rubbed them up and down Fleur's back (under her shirt), and paused to caress the girl's rock hard abs, which she had always found to be very attractive.

_Fleur stood in front of long mirror wearing nothing but a sports bra and pajama pant__. Running her fingers along her stomach, she stared at her reflection thoughtfully, and that was how Hermione found her several moments later when she walked into the dormitory to find a book she needed to complete her homework. She stared at the other girl for a second, giving her a weird look. Finally, she asked, "What are you doing, Fleur?"_

_The blonde craned her head to glance at Hermione before she turned her whole body around__. "I think Quidditch is giving me abs," she said, sounding very curious like, like she had no idea that this would happen._

_Smiling at how innocently clueless her friend was being, Hermione shook her head and went to her bed. "Quidditch is a very physical sport and as chaser, you're forced to move your body around a lot on your broom." She crouched down and reached for her Transfiguration book, which she had moved under her bed that morning to __make the floor__ less cluttered. "__You'__ve been playing for more than two__ year__s__; I'm surprised that you're only now noticing the changes in your physical appearance."_

_"__They weren't there before__…" she responded absently, turning back to the mirror and pressing her fingers down against her stomach._

_"__They weren't__?" Hermione straightened up, brushed off her knees, and held the large textbook firmly in both hands.__ She noticed how dark the back of Fleur's head had become and wondered if the blonde had colored her hair, but then she remembered that her hair always turned much darker after a shower._

_"No…Quidditch was cancelled last year because of the Triwizard Tournament, remember?__ These," she poked her abs, wondering when they had turned so hard, "are new."_

_"Oh yeah, I__ had__ forgot__ten__ about that." The blonde had been so disappointed when Dumbledore announced that there would be no Quidditch._

_Seeing that Hermione was about to leave, Fleur quickly said, "Come, touch my stomach."_

_The brunette laughed and shook her head. "I'm good, Fleur, really."_

_"Oh come on." She bounced over to the girl and grabbed her hand. Placing it on her stomach, she pushed Hermione's fingers down to prove how hard her stomach was. "You see?"__ She looked up expectantly._

_Hermione's mouth was opened slightly and she continued to rub the blonde's stomach even after she let go of her hand, admiring how nice it felt beneath her fingers. She saw that it really was very attractive to look at…and touch. "Very nice__," she commented appreciatively. _

_"Does it turn you on?" She said this jokingly, but on the inside, she was serious._

_Her eyes widened sarcastically and she tilted her head to side, giving Fleur a lopsided smile, which the blonde found very cute. "Oh yeah, I'm burning up on the inside."_

_"Well." Fleur wrapped her arms around Hermione and pulled her closer, somewhat dramatically. "We can always do something about that." She gave the brunette a cheeky grin__ as she let one hand slide lower so that it was resting on her hip__. On the inside, her whole body was tingling with how close they were._

_Chuckling, Hermione pushed her away lightly. "You wish, Delacour."_

_An eyebrow was raised and the blonde flipped her hair out of her face. "Since when do you use my last name?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips._

_Tilting her head again__, Hermione shrugged her shoulders and gave her a curious look. "Since when do you offer me sex?"__ she wondered, not unplayfully._

_"Whoa!" Fleur stepped back dramatically, looking shocked. "Did Hermione Granger just use the word—" She looked around as though there might be people witnessing this event. "—sex?" She whispered the word comically that Hermione burst into laughter._

_"__What, a__m I not allowed to use that word?" she asked __defensively __after she had stopped laughing._

_Fleur shrugged, and Hermione couldn't help but admire how beautiful her best friend looked. Fleur__ always looked beautiful in her eyes though…and the eyes of nearly every person in school. __Not that she was jealous or anything; on the contrary, she found it cute how the other girl had no idea how good looking she was.__ Right now, the blonde's hair was wet and dark and her eyes had shifted towards a bluish gray color, something that tended to only happened when she__ was really __tired, and the pajama pants she wore rested dangerously low on her hips. The black sports bra she was wearing made her look incredibly…sexy.__ "It's just not a word I hear you use very often," Fleur said._

_Shrugging her eyebrows, she said, "Guess it's time to try new things."_

_"We should have sex then. That'd be new." She said this quite seriously, but Hermione saw the playful glint in her eyes that she always got when she was messing with the brunette._

_"Like I said before: you wish." She was not the least bit uncomfortable with her friend flirting with her; in fac__t, she found it quite endearing, and realized that she would be perfectly comfortable flirting back…however, it was so much more fun __to play hard to get._

_Slapping her hand to her heart, Fleur sighed, feigning disappointment__. "I really do." Her attitude was joking, but on the inside, she wished for something different. This interaction with her best friend had left her feeling very giddy…and slightly turned on as well. Maybe it would do her well to get some sleep now.__ "I think I'__m going to head__ to bed now. Practice really wore me out tonight."_

_Hermione nodded, acknowledging that their playful banter was now over. "Okay. Do you want me to read over your Potions essay?" she offered._

_After thinking for a moment, she nodded. "Yeah, that would be awesome. I worked really hard to get that thing done."_

_"Okay. And I'll wake you for breakfast tomorrow morning?" During the winter, when the sun was late to rise, the blonde usually had trouble waking up, for natural light was her preferred method, so Hermione __always woke her up every morning, usually by gently shaking her arm and softly calling her name. Fleur had to admit; it was a great way to start the day._

_"Of course."_

_She nodded. "Okay then."_

_"You're too good to me, Hermione," Fleur said__, truly being serious this time._

_Smiling softly, Hermione gently__ pointed towards the blonde's bed. "Get some sleep. You look exhausted." She tenderly grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Good night." After she shut the door behind her, she rested her body against it, listening to Fleur shuffle around inside, finishing getting ready for bed. Thinking to the other girl's last comment, Hermione muttered to herself. "Somebody has to be."_

Half an hour later, the girls were cuddling on the bed, Hermione, lying almost on top of Fleur, resting her head in the crook of her neck, with her arm thrown loosely over the blonde's stomach. They had been in this position for only a few minutes, but Hermione could tell by her even breathing that Fleur had fallen asleep. She knew she should go to her own bed before she also fell asleep, but she wasn't willing to pull herself away just yet. Lying with the blonde was always something she had found to be so calm and relaxing, and since they hadn't cuddled in so long, Hermione was very reluctant to stop.

This past week had not been the easiest for her, for she was getting extremely sick of seeing Fleur spend time with Matthew, and she was upset that the other girl hadn't broken things off yet. However, she had not made a big deal of it…yet. Assuming that Fleur was merely nervous and figuring she had no experience in breaking up with someone, Hermione had decided not to pressure her; she understood how nerves could make something difficult to do. However, it did not mean that it didn't hurt her. Seeing them together…watching him try to kiss her…it was all a bit much. But the worst was over now, wasn't it? Fleur was hers and that's what mattered…but therein lays the problem: Fleur was _unofficially _hers, for Matthew had the open claim on her, and that's what Hermione wanted. Right now, she only had half of Fleur.

And she wanted everything.

* * *

A/N: I thought it would be good to give a bit of a background on Fleur's family and her relationship with them, and I also wanted to give a little more on Matthew and just how deep his and Fleur's relationship goes because we have to face it, they've been dating for four months; things are going to be difficult. I also really enjoyed writing the make out scene and I wrote Hermione the way I think she would be in that kind of situation. On a downside, I don't know when I'll be updating again. School work has been a little lax lately, but I've now got two research papers to write. I prefer to write longer chapters, but I can give you guys shorter updates more frequently than if I write another 4000 word chapter if you'd like. Let me know what you would prefer! 


	7. Chapter 7

Normally, Fleur used Saturday mornings as an excuse to sleep in until lunch, but Harry had called for a pre-dawn Quidditch practice, much to her extreme dismay. This was one of those rare times where she had to use an alarm clock to help her wake up, and it rang sharply at six am, jerking her out of a peaceful slumber. The night before, she had charmed it so as only she would hear it ring in the morning, for she did not wish to wake up her sleeping dorm mates at such an ungodly hour. It was a simple charm really: she had borrowed Parvati's clock, tapped her wand against it, and muttered, "chatoria," though she made a mental note to have it play some soothing music next time she had to use it to wake herself up, which was bound to happen. Music is a much better wakeup call than a shrill _RING_, in her opinion.

Dragging herself tiredly out of bed, she paused and smiled softly, through bleary eyes, at a sleeping Hermione, who was sprawled diagonally on her stomach on the twin-sized mattress. After brushing her teeth and dressing into her Quidditch robes, Fleur quickly made her way down to the Quidditch pitch, pausing to grab her Firebolt (a present from her father when she made the team in third year) from the broom shed. Half the team was already at the pitch when she arrived, and they all looked exhausted except for Harry, who seemed to be wide awake, much to her envy. She had not gone to sleep until after two in the morning, for she and Hermione had spent the majority of their evening and night talking and kissing in their dormitory, the only place where they felt somewhat safe not to be caught.

"Morning, Fleur," Harry said to her as she approached. Glancing up at the dark, she would hardly call this morning. "Sleep well?"

Leaving her broom floating in the air, the blonde collapsed onto the grass and, conscious not to get her hair in the sand, lied down and closed her eyes. "Wonderfully," she muttered tiredly, shutting her eyes and placing her hands beneath her head when she felt the cold, wet grass touch her neck. She had been disappointed when the snow melted during the week.

"Where were you last night?" Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, for they had slid down slightly, he sat down in the grass next to her. "You and Hermione both seemed to disappear after dinner."

Fleur knew last night that their absences would be noticed, she wasn't stupid, and so she had already come up with a cover story. "I visited Hagrid after dinner," which was true, "and then I went straight to my dorm when I got back," she said, readying herself to lie. "I've fallen really behind in some classes and I knew I wasn't likely to get anything done today so I decided to spend my night catching up on homework. Hermione was in there when I got back, writing a letter or something; I didn't ask."

"Wait," Harry said, a dawning look in his eyes, which made her panic for a moment. "You were alone with Hermione in your dormitory? Have you talked to her yet?"

She breathed a silent sigh of relief that that was all he wanted to know. With her eyes still closed, she shook her head. "Not yet."

"You said you were going to last week."

"Is there really any need to?" she asked, opening her eyes now and staring at Harry, who looked slightly irritated with her. His unruly hair was even messier than it usually was and Fleur thought he looked quite good-looking.

"What do you mean?" he questioned curiously.

"She seems happier than she was before, doesn't she? There's not really any reason for me to go and talk to her anymore." Hermione had looked much happier after last Saturday, so Fleur decided to play innocent with Harry and not tell him she talked to her (and did much more). It seemed like things would be easier if they appeared not to be friends still because then there would be less suspicion when she finally broke it off with Matthew. However, as time went on, Fleur marveled at how idiotic an idea it had been; things would be a lot easier for them both if they could spend time together in open eyes of everyone, including her boyfriend. Then, they would at least be able to acknowledge some form of their relationship instead of continuing to ignore each other in front of other people. When she ended things with Matthew, people might suspect that Hermione may have had something to do with it, but no one would suspect that it was because they were in a relationship. Most people didn't think that way, to suspect that the two girls were possibly seeing each other, and if either of them thought that is what people really did suspect, then they were merely being paranoid, weren't they? At least that's what Fleur told herself.

He thought about this for a moment. "I guess so…" he said rather reluctantly. Harry was confused. Hermione really did appear a lot happier than she had since school started, but her and Fleur hadn't spoken to each other in months, except under forced situations like last week in Potions when Professor Slughorn assigned the two girls to work on an in-class project together, and even then they barely talked, preferring to communicate over written notes (they had aced the project). However, if Fleur hadn't talked to her, then why did she seem so cheerful and happy?

"Yeah, so it's all good." She felt a little more awake and was thankful for this because moments later, the rest of the team arrived and Harry hopped up and began instructions immediately. Being awake was mandatory if she wanted to pull off the stunts he asked her to do without falling off her broom. Because she had a Firebolt, like him, he normally asked her to pull the more extreme stunts of the chasers, which normally involved stealing the Quaffle mid-throw (from the opposing team), speeding off with it before the other team could even realize what had happened.

Practice went on for hours. At around eight, some Slytherins drifted into the stands, eating bits of buttered toast they had taken from the Great Hall: their boos and catcalls irritated Fleur so much that she accidently threw the Quaffle so hard at Ron that he nearly fell off his broom, completely winded. He quickly held his hands up and told her that it was okay when she went to apologize.

"Keep that up, Delacour! Then you'll lose another member…not that losing Weasley is much of a loss!"

Turning a bright shade of red, Ron tightened his grip on his broom, staring directly ahead with a hard look on his face. Fleur merely ignored Pansy, catching the Quaffle as Ginny threw it to her. "I really hate her," she muttered to herself, but Ginny had heard.

"Don't we all? I think she's just bitter that Malfoy's gone and dumped her." The redhead grinned at the prospect of Parkinson being rejected, and Fleur laughed. She felt somewhat sorry for the girl (she knew how it felt), but her sympathy was limited seeing as the other girl was calling increasingly rude things to her and the rest of team.

"Just ignore them," Harry told them as he flew by, continuing his quest to find the snitch. "Try the Drop-Low maneuver; Demelza, you lead!"

At half past nine, the chasers were experimenting with a new stunt; they all felt utterly exhausted, but were happy that practice would be ending in half an hour, with plenty of time to spare for them to go and eat some breakfast. The Slytherins had vacated the stands long ago after getting bored with harassing the Gryffindor team, but Fleur had seen Matthew arrive moments before, waving to her briefly before he sat down to watch them. She grinned at him and returned her concentration to flying circles around Ginny and Demelza as they furiously threw the Quaffle back and forth to each other. When she saw Hermione enter the stands a few feet away from the blond boy five minutes later, carrying a large stack of toast, she nearly lost control of her broom, spinning around before she oriented herself upright.

"What was that, Fleur?" Ginny asked, stopping in front of her, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

Swallowing hard, she did not even look at the brunette who had just entered, or Matthew, who appeared to invite Hermione to sit with him. "I'm fine, just lost control a bit," she assured her. And then suddenly, a stray bludger came out of nowhere and collided with Fleur's left hand, which had been resting near the nose of her broom. "Fucking shit!" she cried out in pain, not even realizing that she had was once again spinning out of control until Harry roared, "Fleur!"

Thankfully, she was only ten feet above the ground when she fell. Landing on her back with a painful _POOSH_, she groaned and simply lay there on the cold sand, nursing her hand and wondering if anything had been broken. Moments later, the entire team was gathered around her and they helped her to sit up.

"Can you bend your fingers?" Harry asked worriedly. He was no stranger to Quidditch injuries.

Eyes screwed up in pain, she tried to move her fingers, attempting to ignore how much it hurt. "I…I think so," she choked, surprised at how much effort it took to speak.

"It's not broken then," he said, feeling relieved.

"_Lasis shariot!_" It felt like her entire body had been dipped in a bath of warm water; the pain in her hand and back receded as her whole body felt very tingly and relaxed. She looked up and saw Hermione and Matthew hurrying towards them; the brunette stowed her wand away in her pocket when they approached. "God, Fleur, are you okay?" she asked, looking extremely concerned while she knelt down beside the blonde, taking her hand and examining it. The pain returned when she did this, but Fleur felt too relaxed to even care.

Tilting her head, the younger girl gave Hermione a very lopsided smile. "I like what you did with your hair today; it looks so nice," she said blissfully, admiring how pretty the brunette looked with her hair tied back off her face and held in a messy bun. She was completely oblivious to the bewildered stares she received from everyone around her.

Blushing, Hermione let go of her hand and said, "Thanks." The blonde looked deliriously at her, and the older girl's features pulled into an expression of nervousness. Perhaps it would have been better to use a different charm on her girlfriend, but when she saw Fleur cry out in pain when she was hit by that bludger and fall off her broom, Hermione had performed the first healing charm that had come to her mind.

"What kind of spell did you use exactly?" Matthew asked, eyeing the loopy blonde and feeling effectively baffled by her behavior. She seemed rather…high, in his opinion.

"Lasis shariot; it's a relaxing charm that makes you feel very unconcerned with your surroundings. With Fleur, it makes it so that she doesn't mind the pain in her hand." Some nodded their heads in understanding, and Matthew looked relieved that his girlfriend wasn't in anymore pain. It annoyed Hermione that he was there; she had been exceedingly irritated when she came to the pitch to wait for practice to end so she could invite Fleur on a walk afterwards, and had seen Matthew watching the athletic blonde from the stands. It bugged her to no end that Fleur was _both_ their girlfriends, and was getting more and more impatient for her to break up with him. "We should still take her to the Hospital Wing though. Madam Pomfrey needs to cast a proper healing spell on her hand."

"I'll take her," Matthew offered, leaning down to help the girl up. "C'mon, babe, let's go get you healed up." He pulled her up carefully, tenderly even, wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to his body, as she could not walk on her shaky legs.

Hermione bit her tongue when she remembered that she was supposed to continue her attitude of indifference towards the other girl (whose horrible idea was that?) and battled a new surge of contempt for Matthew, for_she_ was the one who wanted to take care of the younger girl. Wasn't it_her _that cast the charm? Shouldn't she be the one to deal with its consequence? A pause…And had Matthew always called Fleur 'babe?' That was something that did not sit right with her at all, whatsoever. How long had he been calling her that? Did she like it? And should Hermione herself call her that as well? She did not know, but even in her mind it sounded awkward.

"I want Hermione to take me," she slurred, unsuccessfully attempting to pull herself out of Matthew's strong arms. Her eyes were half closed and she looked about ready to go to sleep. For a moment, the brunette wondered if she had cast too strong a charm, but then realized that four hours of Quidditch practice had probably drained the other girl. Exhaustion plus a relaxation spell equaled excessive drowsiness, Hermione remembered reading.

"Oh…" He looked slightly stung and glanced back at Hermione, who shrugged helplessly. "You don't mind do you?" he asked, remembering that the girls did not have a smooth past.

"Not at all." She tried to act as nonchalant as possible, but it was quite difficult seeing as how pleased she felt.

Harry hid a smile when he saw how eager Hermione was to help the drunken-like blonde; it was so obvious how she felt, and he wondered if Fleur would notice too…probably not, seeing as she was in no state to care about anything (spell). He snickered when the blonde practically threw herself at Hermione, who stumbled back, trying to keep her balance. "C'mon, Fleur. We're going to go to the Hospital Wing now," he heard her say as they walked off the pitch.

"You smell so good, Hermione," Fleur murmured into the other girl's ear, letting her lips brush across it and grinning when she felt her shiver. "Like lotion."

"I put some on after my shower." This was definitely quite the task, seeing as she had to drag most of the other girl's weight, for she was unable to stand on her legs properly.

"Mm," she hummed. "I'm really tired." The exhaustion was finally beginning to hit her. "Why did you have to use that spell? It's made me really sleepy; all I want to do is sleep."

"You can sleep when we get to the Hospital Wing."

"But I want to sleep now." Attempting to pull herself away from Hermione to lie down on the grass, she gave a 'hmph' noise and pouted when the shorter girl continued her firm grip.

"You can sleep when we get to the Hospital Wing," she repeated, rolling her eyes and wondering how she could possibly find the other girl's behavior endearing right now. Glancing around to make sure there was no one watching, Hermione leaned up and quickly kissed the blonde's pouted lips, unable to resist temptation, however, she pulled back when Fleur tried to deepen the kiss.

"Mmm, you should kiss me more often," she said blissfully, resting her head on the other girl's shoulder. "You have such nice lips…they're so soft."

Blushing at the compliment, Hermione said nothing. They were inside the castle now; people gave them curious looks as they stumbled by and she felt slightly flustered by the attention, not as used to it as Harry or Fleur was.

"_Why are people always staring at me?" Fleur wondered as she and Hermione walked down the corridor towards Transfiguration. Moments ago, she had caught a group of Ravenclaw sixth years gazing at her as they passed by. The attention did not make her uncomfortable, but she was curious as to why they stared._

_Shaking her head, Hermione gave her a disbelieving look. "You're very good-looking, Fleur," she stated matter-of-factly._

"_Am I?" _

_She seemed so perplexed by this concept that the brunette laughed and playfully nudged her friend's arm. "Yes. You really are absolutely stunning…and people have started to notice." Ever since they came back for fourth year, Fleur seemed to have caught the attention of nearly every male student in the castle. Over the summer, when they went to the Burrow for the Quidditch World Cup, Hermione had noticed a change in her friend's appearance. Her hair was lighter, if that was even possible, bordering a silvery color, and she had cut it so that it was layered in a very attractive manner. Her body had also gone through some changes as well, having formed the right curves to make her much more woman-like._

"_Really?"_

_Hermione nodded. "Yes."_

"_Then why don't people stare at you as well?" Fleur asked, truly confused. Hermione was extremely good-looking after all. Or at least that is what her gut told her every time she was around the other girl. She found it exceedingly difficult to box up her screaming feelings of attraction for the beautiful brunette._

_Flattered by Fleur's indirect compliment, she self-consciously smoothed a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, and blushed. "Because I'm not as pretty as you," she said. It wasn't as though Hermione was unconfident with how she looked; she simply did not spend as much time obsessing over it as others (Lavender and Parvati)._

"_Sure you are." She sounded very sincere. "You're way prettier than me." Truthfully, she felt a little self-conscious under their scrutinizing gazes and could not imagine why they did not take to staring at Hermione as well._

"_Thank you, but I'm rather happy that you're getting all the attention and not me. I hate when people stare at me."_

"_I love how you're so nice." She sounded serious, her there was that usual hint of playfulness in her voice that gave her away when she teased the easily agitated brunette._

"_I know."_

Ten minutes later, they had finally made it to the Hospital Wing. It was empty inside and Hermione helped Fleur sit on one of the beds before knocking on Madam Pomfrey's office door. "Madam Pomfrey?" she called, softly hitting her index knuckle against the oak door, and taking a step back when it opened.

"Hermione? What brings you here?" she asked curiously. She hadn't seen the sixth year girl since last year after the Department of Mysteries ordeal, thank frankly, she was quite happy not to see the girl, as every time she saw her, she was injured or visiting an injured friend.

"Fleur Delacour was hit in the hand by a bludger during Quidditch practice. I used the Lasis Shariot charm on her, but I didn't know how to mend her hand," Hermione explained while leading Madam Pomfrey over to the bed where Fleur was lying half asleep on.

"Lasis Shariot? That's quite advanced magic for someone of your age," she said, impressed. Healing spells were normally something learned in seventh year and beyond.

Blushing, Hermione said nothing and watched as Madam Pomfrey took Fleur's hand, examined it for a moment, and tapped her wand against, performing a silent healing spell. "There, it's all healed. It was mostly internal bleeding; could have been a lot worse than it was. Honestly, some of the injuries that come through here because of Quidditch…" She shook her head looking forlorn. "Miss Delacour should stay here for a few hours and sleep off some of her exhaustion before she goes back to Gryffindor common room." Hermione nodded, happy that she would not have to drag her girlfriend across the castle again; the girl was much heavier than she looked. "And I want you to make sure she gets a good night's rest tonight, which means no staying up late. I know how you teenagers get on Saturday nights…"

"All right."

"Okay. She's going to be sleeping for a while, Miss Granger; there's no need for you to stay here," Madam Pomfrey told her.

Nodding, Hermione said, "I'm just going to stay until she falls asleep. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

When the nurse went back inside her office, the brunette sat down in the chair next to Fleur's bed, which felt uncomfortable and cold through the fabric of her jeans. The younger girl looked at her with sleepy eyes and grabbed her hand. "Can I sleep now?" she asked quietly, in a voice so childlike that Hermione's heart nearly broke from the cuteness of it.

Caressing the back of Fleur's now healed hand, she nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, you can sleep now." Tenderly, she smoothed the offending hair off the blonde's forehead, frowning for a moment when she felt sand in between her fingers. "Your back doesn't hurt, does it?" She had forgotten that the other girl had fallen off of her broom from ten feet in the air, and would summon Madam Pomfrey if there was anything she needed to mend in her back.

"Mm…no, not really," she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before reopening and looking at the brunette with a very tired gaze. "Your bed is so much more comfortable than this one."

Chuckling, Hermione neglected to say that every bed in Hogwarts had the same kind of mattress, though it was something she had mentioned countless times before whenever Fleur called her bed 'more comfortable.' "You can sleep in my bed tonight," Hermione offered.

"Will you be in it?"

"Of course. It is the more comfortable one after all." Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to sleep in the arms of the younger blonde; it was her most favorite of places after all.

"Mm…yay." She grinned blissfully and closed her eyes. "I love you," she murmured sleepily.

"Love you too." Leaning down, she kissed Fleur's lips softly, realizing that the other girl had already fallen asleep.

_She couldn't breathe; her whole body felt on fire as she stumbled madly through the corridors in a rush to get to the Hospital Wing. Her hands were so sweaty, her heart beating so fast that it hurt; Fleur could not recall a time she had ever felt like this. She felt like she was dying, which was why she had left the safety of her dormitory and was now blundering through the castle, feeling ready to pass out. Tears were like a water fall, running down her face in a steady stream and her chest ached so deeply that she thought she would never be happy again. Where was Hermione when she needed her? A fresh ache of pain burst through her chest, causing her to rest her back against the wall and slide down so she was sitting on the floor. Oh yeah, she was with him._

"_Oh my god…" She openly wept and could not find the strength to stand back up, for her legs had grown to be so shaky that she was unable to stand properly, let along walk. "Somebody," she whispered, not finding the strength to scream. "Help…" Choking, she fell over so that her whole body was lying on the floor. Cradled in a ball, she continued to cry, praying that somebody, anybody, would find her. But that was wishful thinking, wasn't it? Everyone was still at the Yule Ball and would be for several more hours. Including Hermione._

_It hurt…it hurt so badly; her chest was like an open gun wound, the life was slowly bleeding out of her. Lying on the cold, stone floor, Fleur wondered how she had gotten like this: when had her feelings grown for Hermione so much that she wanted to die when the older brunette had told her she was going to the Ball with Viktor Krum. Today had arrived; she had holed herself up in the library all day until eight o'clock, when she was sure that Hermione had left the common room, and then slowly made her way back to her dormitory, where she then proceeded to enter an emotional breakdown. Rather ironic that in the library she had been closer to the Hospital Wing than in her dormitory._

"_Somebody, help me…" she repeated the same quiet cry for help. She was unable to get up, and she would have crawled to the Hospital Wing from where she lay, but her arms seemed to have failed her as well. Mustering up every ounce of strength she could, she screamed, "_HELP ME_!" Afterwards, all her energy gone, Fleur passed out, which was how Sir Nicholas found her moments later when he had heard her cry from the next corridor over. _

_Her eyes were still closed when she woke up four hours later. Noting the soft mattress she laid on, Fleur concluded that she had somehow reached the Hospital Wing. Her body felt a hundred times better; her chest no longer ached like an open shotgun wound, and her heart rate was a slow, steady beat against her left breast. She was dimly aware of voices whispering, trying not to wake her, to each other near her bed and she strained her ears to listen to what they were saying._

"_It was a panic attack," came the whispered voice of Madam Pomfrey. "Sir Nicholas found her two floors below, passed out on the floor. He says he heard a cry for help and when he went to investigate, he found Delacour. Apparently she was trying to make it here…"_

"_Will she be all right?" McGonagall asked, and for the first time ever, Fleur could hear worry in her voice._

"_Oh yes, she'll be fine. I immediately fed her a Calming Drought when she arrived. She suffered a severe panic attack, one which rendered her almost completely immobile. I'm surprised she made it as far as she did. I'll be giving her another dose of the Drought as soon as she wakes up."_

"_What caused it?" said another small, shaken voice. Hermione. Fleur's heart leapt._

"_Extreme emotion of a sort; Nobody really knows but her," said Madam Pomfrey._

"_I knew something was wrong," Hermione's voice cracked. "I _knew_ it. She came to breakfast but that was the last I saw of her the entire day. This is all my fault!"_

"_Now, Miss Granger, you mustn't blame yourself," McGonagall soothed. "Do you know why she chose not to attend the Ball?"_

"_No! She never told me! And all those boys had asked her too…"_

_Fleur had opened her eyes a smidgen by that point and she was too busy admiring how beautiful Hermione looked in her periwinkle blue dress robes and sleeked up hair to notice the knowing look Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall gave each other. The brunette, who had looked petrified a moment ago, twitched in surprise when she saw that Fleur was gazing at her, obviously very much awake._

"_Fleur!" she exclaimed and rushed to her side. There were tears running down her face and the blonde thought she looked far too beautiful to taint that image of perfection with such sadness._

"_Hey…" It surprised her how hoarse her voice sounded. "You're here…"_

"_Of course I'm here!" She wondered if McGonagall had found her when she heard that one of her Gryffindors had been hospitalized. "I'm just so sorry that I couldn't be here sooner." Taking Fleur's hand, she held it tightly in her grasp, and it felt nice and warm against her own. The blonde knew she must have looked a fright, and knew she should feel self-conscious, but at the moment, she was far too exhausted to feel much of anything, except happiness that Hermione had finally come, was finally there with her._

"_I needed you so badly," she began, oblivious to the two adults in the room. "I was so scared I was going to die."_

"_Oh…" Appearing as though she were about to have a breakdown of her very own, she quickly gathered herself, realizing that she needed to be strong for her best friend. "I knew I shouldn't have gone to the Ball…"_

"_No! Don't blame yourself; it wasn't your fault." Though technically it was, wasn't it? "I don't know what happened…I was fine one moment, but the next…I just…I don't know."_

"_Why did you…why did you break down like that?"_

"_I don't know," she repeated for a third time. "I just lost it, lost all control I guess…"_

"_I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me," Hermione apologized again, clearly distraught. "But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."_

"Whoa…" came a voice from the open door of the Hospital Wing. Hermione jerked up with that deer-caught-in-headlights sort of look on her face as Harry and Ginny stared dumbstruck at her from the entrance.

"What?" came another voice. "Is everything okay? Is Fleur all right?" Matthew, who had not seen a thing, pushed his way into the room, looking extremely worried. When he saw Hermione standing over the sleeping blonde, he sighed in relief. "You guys had me scared for a second there," he said, not noticing anything out of the ordinary as he went to stand by his sleeping girlfriend.

Hermione, Harry, and Ginny simply stared at one another.

* * *

A/N: So I had another spare day to write, which I took advantage of, and I managed to finish this chapter. I apologize for any mistakes, but I wanted to have this posted before I went to bed and in my tired state, I might not have caught as many mistakes as I normally would have. Also, I'm started posting status updates on my profile as to where I am on writing each chapter and my estimated date of posting. So if you guys are ever curious to when I may have the next chapter up, just take a look at my profile and it'll tell you. I thought that was better than leaving you guys in the dark about my updating. 


	8. Chapter 8

"_I heard you had a panic attack last night." Gabrielle finally said, breaking the awkward silence between her and her sister. _

_Nodding, Fleur crossed her arms in an attempt to maintain some warmth as they walked through the cold, snowy grounds. Hermione, who had not let the blonde out of her sight since the night before, had looked extremely put out when Gabrielle approached them at lunch and requested a walk outside from Fleur, who was a bit confused, as her sister had barely spoken to her since her arrival at Hogwarts. Hardly anyone knew they were related. "Yeah…Madam Pomfrey only let me go this morning," she responded, not really knowing what else to say._

"_Are you better now?" She did not sound the least bit concerned but merely curious, as though this was a common occurrence for the younger girl and did not deserve the least bit of worry._

"_Yeah; Madam Pomfrey gave me a Calming Drought twice last night and then again this morning. She says I should be fine, and that I just need to take it easy for a few days." Not too hard considering they were on Christmas break and she had at least a week before classes resumed for a new term. She paused. "How did you even hear about it anyway?"_

"_Your Professor McGonagall informed Madam Maxime, who, in turn, informed me." Her heavy French accent contained an airy lilt, and for a moment, Fleur was jealous of her sister's elegance and grace, wishing that she had inherited that from her mother as well, instead of being blunt and clumsy, much like her father. "Why did you have a panic attack?"_

_Frowning, she did not answer, uncomfortable with divulging such private matters with a person she rarely even saw, let alone spoke to. Gabrielle rarely responded to the letters Fleur sent, something that had always made her incredibly bitter towards the older girl._

"_Does it have anything to do with that brunette girl you're always hanging around…Hermione, I believe her name is?"_

_Her jaw dropped in disbelief at how Gabrielle could possibly have figured that out. "No!" she instantly denied. "Why would Hermione have anything to do with it?"_

"_She went to the Ball with Viktor Krum. And you are in love with her, non?"_

"_What?" she exclaimed. How could the older girl possibly know? She had never told anyone about her feelings for Hermione…not a soul. "I am not in love with her! She's my best friend!"_

"_Then you at least like her, do you not?" Gabrielle looked expectantly at her younger sister, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world._

"_What makes you think I like her?" she asked, instead of directly answering the question. Though she was scowling, she wanted to know how the other girl knew. And perhaps she should tell Gabrielle her feelings for Hermione; maybe it would help her feel better if someone knew. She was unsure though; did her older sister truly deserve to know her feelings after ignoring her for so long?_

_Smoothing silvery hair behind her ear, much in the way that Fleur herself did, she continued her slow stride and answered smoothly. "I have seen the way you look at her. You think I do not pay attention, that I'm too wrapped up in myself not to notice what's going on around me? Especially with my little sister?" Opening her mouth to protest, Fleur was cut off by a sharp wave of Gabrielle's hand. "You think that I do not care, Fleur, and that is perfectly understandable as I have not given much evidence to the contrary, and I do not fault you for it." Pausing for a moment, she took a deep breath. "But my display of indifference and apathy has nothing to do with you."_

_Confused, she glanced at the older girl, and almost slipped in a patch of ice. "Then who does it have to do with?" she asked, sliding for a moment before she steadily balanced herself._

_A pause. "Your father."_

"_My father? Gabrielle, what does he have to do with anything?"_

"_I cannot stand that man," she admitted quietly, bowing her head and letting her long hair shield her face from view. "But that is not what this is about." Standing up straight, she turned to Fleur, looked at her curiously. "Perhaps we will talk about your father some other time, but right now we must focus on you and Hermione."_

"_We_ must_?" A smiled tugged at the younger girl's lips and she wondered briefly if all the French were this dramatic, but then she realized that Gabrielle did not speak English fluently, so she was forced to choose from the words she already knew. Perhaps that is why she sounded so elegant all the time._

"_Yes. Am I correct to assume that your panic attack last night had to do with the fact that Hermione went to the Ball with Viktor?" _

_A hint of a frown formed on Fleur's brow. _She calls him Viktor? Of course she does; that's his name after all._After a moment of hesitation, she nodded her head. "Yeah, it kind of did," she admitted softly, and immediately felt incredibly stupid. Who had a panic attack just because their best friend went to a dance with someone else? Embarrassed, a deep blush formed on Fleur's creamy, white skin._

"_And I am correct to assume that you are in love with her?"_

"_No! No…" She struggled to find the right words. "I like her, yeah, but I can't honestly say I'm in love with her, can I? I mean, I'm only fourteen. This is only supposed to be a phase, right?" 'Love' was not a term Fleur threw around lightly, and she only ever used it when she really meant it. It irritated her to no end that there were people who thought that just because they had a crush on someone, they were hopelessly in love with them. She did say 'I love you' to Hermione all the time, but in no way did she think that she was _in_ love with the other girl. If she actually was…well, that would be a whole new set of problems, wouldn't it?_

"_It's understandable that you do not believe you are in love, and your feelings really may dwindle after a time, but for the moment, you like her. You like her much more than a female best friend should. And it's deteriorating your emotional state." She sounded very matter-of-fact and it reminded Fleur so much of Hermione's attitude and how she would probably be in this kind of situation: lay the facts on the table and try to procure a solution. _

"_My emotional state is not deteriorating…I just didn't know how painful jealousy could be." Normally, she did not consider herself a very jealous person, but ever since Krum had asked Hermione to the Ball, she could not ignore the burning feeling of anger and envy that coursed through her. It wasn't as though the brunette gushed about it constantly; actually, she had only said that Krum invited her to go and wondered what she should wear, but it still hurt her. "Nobody ever told me how much it could hurt…like it was really fucking painful," Fleur said very seriously. "I've never felt that angry before…"_

"_I believe you get that from mother," Gabrielle said knowingly. "She is quite the jealous type, especially when it comes to those she holds strong feelings for."_

"_How is mum anyway?" she asked, changing the conversation, curious to know about how her mother was doing, as she had not seen or heard from her since August._

"_She is well…she misses you very much."_

_Smiling softly, Fleur said, "I miss her too…" She thought of the good times she had had with her mother that past summer, and suddenly wished for next summer to arrive more quickly._

"_Once again, this is a topic we shall save for later," Gabrielle stated, steering the conversation back their original topic. "Now what are you going to do?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Are you going to tell Hermione how you feel?" she questioned, her eyebrows raised curiously._

_Frowning, Fleur realized that she had not even thought of telling the other girl how she felt, as she had been so intent on hiding it from everyone, even herself on occasion. "No, probably not," she decided. "It's not as though she likes me back, so there's no point. Would just ruin what we have now."_

"_Are you sure about that? Are you sure that she doesn't return your feelings?"_

_After thinking for a moment, she nodded. Hermione had never given any indication that she felt anything for her beyond friendship…though, she had never given any indication that she _didn't_ feel anything beyond friendship. However, Fleur would not risk the chance of telling her and have it destroy their current relationship. Having Hermione as a friend was better than not having her at all, right? Even if situations like Krum and the Yule Ball made her want to die of jealousy and rage. It was worth it in the end to have the other girl's friendship…no matter how destructive it may grow to be. "I'm just going to go with she doesn't like me…if I feel that changes, then I might tell her."_

"_Fair enough. But are you even sure that it would ruin your friendship if you told her now? It is worth the risk, is it not? Even from the distance I keep, I can see that she cares for you deeply…I doubt she would let feelings of attraction get in the way."_

"_I don't know." Her shrug was injected with a sharp shiver and she realized that it was much colder than it had been the day before. "But I don't want to take the risk."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because I have too much to lose."_

Hermione spent her day in the library. After Harry and Ginny had caught her kissing Fleur, she quickly fled, very aware of their shocked/curious/accusatory looks. They had caught her red-handed kissing someone else's girlfriend and she could only imagine what was going through their minds because of it. At this moment, she felt extremely frustrated with the blonde for not having broken up with her boyfriend yet, and now intended to talk to her about it later when she finally woke up. Things would have been so much simpler to explain if Fleur was not dating the both of them. If Harry or Ginny asked her about it, she would not lie to them; she would tell them that she and the younger girl were in a relationship, despite any reluctance Fleur may have to it. She would be afraid of their judgments, Hermione knew, for she was cheating on Matthew, but under no circumstances was the brunette going to defend that fact. She was growing steadily more furious with the other girl for playing the boy the way she was.

At a quarter past two, her stomach rumbled, telling her that it was time to get some lunch. With a start, she realized that she had not eaten anything at all that day, as she had brought a large stack of toast to the Quidditch pitch as her breakfast, which she did not eat. After she had gotten out of bed, she took a quick shower, grabbed some toast, and went to the pitch, for she had woken up with a strong urge to go and see the other girl, an urge she found reasonable to satisfy.

To her surprise, Fleur was in the Great Hall eating lunch with Matthew, Harry, and Ginny when she arrived. A moment later, when the blonde caught her eye, she smiled and motioned for Hermione to go and join them, which made Hermione feel slightly nervous. Fleur did not know that Harry and Ginny had caught them kissing, as she had fallen asleep, but it would still be a very awkward gathering.

"Hey," she greeted the group, feeling very self-conscious. Sitting down, she pulled the platter of chicken legs towards her and placed one on her plate. She made sure not to make eye contact with Harry or Ginny, though she could feel them staring at her, but opted to look at Fleur, who was sitting rather close to Matthew. She was no longer jealous of a sight like this, but felt rather irritated instead. "How are you feeling, Fleur?" she asked as casually as possible.

"Pretty tired still, but I woke up starving. I haven't eaten since last night at dinner so Madam Pomfrey let me go." She honestly did look tired; her hair was an uncombed mess, there were bags beneath her eyes, and her skin was much paler than usual. "Thanks for helping me though; very much appreciated. My hand really hurt like hell before you used that charm on me." Harry and Ginny both held unreadable expressions, and she was sure that they were probably wondering why she was speaking with Hermione, for that was something she very rarely did…in the public eye anyway.

"It was no problem, really." After giving her a quick smile, Hermione bowed her head so as she was staring at her food and not the people around her. She felt so incredibly awkward at that moment and really wished Harry and Ginny would leave…Matthew as well, who looked back and forth between Fleur and Hermione with a bewildered expression.

"Wait...are you guys talking to each other again," he asked, confused.

Looking up, Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked questioningly at Fleur. "I don't know, are we?" she asked innocently, already anticipating the answer.

The humor of the situation hit the blonde like a strong blast of wind and she had to choke back a laugh as she nodded slowly. "I guess we are." Giving the other girl a lopsided smile, Fleur took a sip of her pumpkin juice, enjoying the way its tangy flavor ran down her throat.

"That's good…" Harry said slowly, and he and Ginny exchanged a look.

Not noticing their weird behavior, Fleur continued to eat her way through the slice of chocolate cake she had taken for desert, absently noticing the cute expression Hermione always got when she was amused about something.

"So you guys are friends again?" Matthew asked. Her eyebrows and shoulders raised into a quick shrug, as though saying the fact that they were speaking to each other again made an obvious answer to his question. "Well, then, this is perfect!" Everybody looked at him, baffled. "I got permission from McGonagall to go into Hogsmeade," he explained. "You can come with Fleur and me if you'd like."

"Um…" she said, not quite knowing how to respond; the invitation caught her off guard, and she wondered why he would even suggest for her to come, despite they're being "friends" again. "Actually, I've got loads of homework to get done today." Fleur shifted uncomfortably under her pointed, but very subtle, look.

"But it's Saturday," he said.

"Maybe next time?" she offered, brushing him off. This would be the perfect opportunity for Fleur to break up with the older boy, and she knew that the other girl knew it. However, Hermione could already see the doubt forming in her eyes and it made her frustrated.

"Yeah, definitely."

Standing up from the table, Fleur looked down at everyone. "I think I'm going to go get some sleep now," she announced, very eager to leave the Hall and not be the subject of her girlfriend's subtle glare. Wasn't that something normally reserved for Ron?

"Okay, I'll see you later, babe," Matthew said, squeezing her hand gently, aware that she did not like heavy displays of public affection.

There it was again, that twinge of annoyance when he called Fleur 'babe.' Hermione wanted to follow the blonde, but she thought it unwise in front of the watchful eyes of Harry and Ginny, so she stayed and finished her lunch, only excusing herself ten minutes later when she had cleared her plate of food.

The curtains to Fleur's bed were closed when Hermione arrived in their dormitory five minutes later. She wondered if the other girl was actually asleep or was just faking it so as she did not have to talk to her. After contemplating for a moment, she moved forward and threw open the curtains to her girlfriend's bed.

Groaning and feeling a twinge of irritation at the sudden burst of light on her face, Fleur slowly opened her eyes to see a very stern Hermione looking down at her. "We need to talk," the other girl said. "Now."

She knew this was coming, and quite frankly, she was surprised that it had not come sooner. It was always a question to contemplate as to when the brunette would break and bare her frustrations about Matthew on her. "I'm going to break up with him tonight." She squinted through the harsh light of the sun, her eyes having not fully adjusted yet.

"Oh…" The burning fire left her somewhat, but she could not escape the nagging feeling that Fleur was just saying this to please her. So she said it. "Are you _really_ going to break up with him or are you just saying that to please me?"

Not making eye contact, Fleur sat up and shrugged. "I've just been waiting for the right time to do it is all. Hopefully tonight will be the right time…"

Shaking her head furiously and scowling, Hermione felt herself become very angry. "It will _never_ be the right time, Fleur, you just have to _do it_!" she exclaimed. Why was Fleur being so difficult? She had given her time, she had given her plenty of time to break up with Matthew, but she still hadn't. Didn't the other girl see that she was incredibly sick of being the secret she only acknowledged in the dark?

"I don't want to hurt him…" she expressed, rubbing her temple with her the tips of her fingers. Why couldn't Hermione understand how hard this was for her? She was going to crush him…

"So that's it…" She threw her hands up in frustration and paced for a moment, trying to choose her next words carefully. When she had them repeating in her mind like a broken record player, she stopped and stared out of the window, watching as snowflakes the size of half-dollars fell from the sky. "In your advertent attempt not to hurt _him,_" she looked her in the eye, "you're inadvertently hurting _me_. So would you rather hurt _both _of us? Or _one_ of us?"

"Hermione…" Of course Fleur had known she was hurting the other girl, and it was something that killed her to do, but she had to understand that it wouldn't last forever. In her head, that sounded like a good reason…but the truth of the matter was that it wasn't, and in the back of her mind, she knew it, she just refused to acknowledge it, afraid of what would happen when she broke up with Matthew. But what_ would _really happen when she broke up with him? Why was she filled with such dread about it? Wouldn't the end of that relationship take hers and Hermione's to a whole new level? Maybe that was what she was afraid of…the end of Matthew would mean something completely new with Hermione…Fleur could give herself entirely to the other girl, without it being wrong…and that's what frightened her, she now realized. She was terrified of getting hurt again…Hiding behind Matthew and saying she hadn't broken up with him for fear of hurting him was the excuse she formed to partially shield herself from Hermione. True, she did not want to hurt him, but it was her own selfish reasons that dictated her decision to keep things going on as long as they had.

"I can't stand it anymore, Fleur. It _really_ fucking hurts me that you're still with him." Once again, this was one of those rare occasions where Hermione swore. "I've never said anything of it to you, I gave you time, I thought it would be better if I didn't pressure you, and I tried to ignore how much it hurt me, but I can_not_ do it anymore. It's far too painful…" she breathed out, shaking her head. Biting her bottom lip, she looked as though she were trying to decide something, and Fleur sat in silence, waiting. "It's either me or him…If you don't break up with him tonight…then we're finished." Her voice was strong, but it killed her on the inside to say these words. She hated giving the other girl an ultimatum, but that is what it had come down to. "I am _so_ sick of being the secret you only ever acknowledge in the dark."

Silence rang clear and there it was…For several moments Fleur said nothing. Losing Hermione…that was her worst fear and it would happen tonight if she did not end things with Matthew. Of course, it was obvious what she would do, but there was still that small voice of defiance whispering to her in the back of mind, angry that Hermione would make her choose like that. Maybe it was the fact that she did not like having her mistakes shoved in her face, which was what the other girl was doing in a way. Still…for the first time in her life, she bit her tongue, knowing that if she did not choose her words carefully, it would only worsen the situation, which meant that speaking her mind was out of the question. Speaking without thinking was something she constantly paid the price for, and sometimes the consequences were pretty steep. Of course, Hermione had every right to be as angry as she was; Fleur knew what she was doing was wrong. She was leading Matthew on and hurting the woman she loved in the process. Once again, she was being that selfish person Hermione had called her one week ago, and she realized that she would have to work on changing that. It would only hurt her in the end if all she ever looked out for was herself in the situations where she felt her feelings were most important, no matter what her reasons may be, or how good she thought those reasons were.

"Fleur?" Hermione questioned hesitantly, as though scared that she might actually choose Matthew.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Fleur focused on the girl in front of her. Once she was broken up with Matthew, she would have to work on making it up to Hermione…by any means possible. "I love you, Hermione…" Her voice was deep and quiet. "I'm going to break up with him tonight, please don't worry about it."

"Are you really?" she asked, much more softly this time around, after she caught the sincerity in her voice.

Nodding, Fleur said, "Yeah…" She stood up, walked to Hermione, and rested her hands on the other girl's hips, sliding them around her waist so she had pulled her in close to her body. "I'm sorry I haven't done it sooner…you know me and my selfish streak." Instead of looking at the brunette's eyes, she looked at her neck, feeling the burning shame that came with admitting one of her major flaws aloud. "I was just scared that if I broke up with Matt, that somehow you and me would seem less real."

Confused, Hermione asked, "What do you mean?"

She shrugged and bit her lip. "I don't know; it just seems that life is so complicated that if I simplified it by ending things with Matt, then the simple things wouldn't be real." Shaking her head, she chuckled. "That didn't make any sense, did it?"

Chuckling as well, she nodded in agreement. "Not really. But I think I get what you're saying. Basically, you're afraid that I'm going to hurt you again and that Matthew is your shield against me. Like, if I hurt you now, while you're still with him, it won't matter because…because I only have half of you," she swallowed hard as she said this, "and that makes it so I can only hurt half of you and not all of you."

Brow furrowing, she finally looked up at Hermione with a quizzical expression. "I don't know how you managed to figure that out by my elegant speaking skills, but yeah…that sounds about right."

"I believe you mean 'eloquent.'"

"Oh…oops." Laughing, she pushed the other girl away playfully and sat up on the window ledge. "But honestly, how did you know?"

"Honestly?" she said through a cheeky grin. "I read people well." Moving forward, Hermione rested her hands on the blonde's knees and leaned forward. "Especially you; you're really easy to read…but that's because I do pay a little more attention to you than I do most. Still, it's quite nice actually."

"Excellent." She rolled her eyes, flipped her hair back over her shoulder, and slouched against the window, resting her own hands on top of the brunette's. "But as long as you like it, I guess it's okay…"

Hermione's heart began to beat a little faster when Fleur flipped her hair back, still amazed at how much she liked it when she did that. Ignoring her raging hormones, she focused back on the matter at hand. "I'm not going to hurt you again, Fleur…not like before," she said as seriously and sincerely as she could, looking directly into Fleur's icy blue eyes.

Drawn to the other girl's gaze, Fleur could not pull herself away and momentarily got lost in Hermione's caring brown eyes. "I know…I just get scared, you know?" She felt incredibly vulnerable at the moment and knew that if her girlfriend somehow said the wrong thing, it would break her.

Hermione seemed to be thinking along those lines as well, for she said nothing for several moments, trying to come up with the proper response. "I'm scared too," she finally said, smiling dryly. "Everything that you're afraid of, I'm afraid of as well. I'm…oh god, what's a good phrase?" She thought for a moment. "Scared shitless," Fleur smiled softly, "that I'm going to lose you…but I think we need to stop being afraid of each other."

"It's kind of funny…" The blonde had a humorous smile on her face. "You know how two negatives make a positive?"

Hermione nodded, a smile also tugging at her lips.

"Well, I'm afraid and you're afraid, which I consider to be two negatives…so shouldn't that cancel out and give us the positive of us finally just letting go and actually allowing ourselves to be with each other?"

Laughing, Hermione nodded. "That would make sense." She turned serious. "But I guess that's up to you, isn't it?"

And suddenly, Fleur's temporary jovialness was gone and they were back to the matter at hand. Things needed to end with Matthew, before she and Hermione could take their relationship to a further level. "I'm going to break up with him tonight." And then she could finally allow herself to give in to the girl she loved.

"You promise?" If Fleur did not do it this time…it would be over between them, at least for a little bit. And that was the worst thing Hermione imagined could happen.

"I promise." If there was one thing the blonde did, it was keep her promises. She had suffered through too many broken promises to let someone else down like that. And Hermione knew that.

Knowing the value of the true value of Fleur's promises, Hermione let herself feel relieved and she smiled. "Good."

* * *

They were approaching the end of their outing into Hogsmeade and Fleur had still not said anything to Matthew. Of course, she knew her problem right off the bat: she was terrified, once again repeating to herself that she was merely waiting for the right time instead of doing it the first chance she had. What she was so scared of; she didn't know…what was the worst that could happen, after all? Still, the simple thought of breaking up with him was sending her into a nerves attack. So she told herself that she would wait until the end of their trip to tell him, wait until he had winded down a bit and wasn't so high energy and cheerful. He had been so happy that they had gotten permission to go into Hogsmeade, saying that it would be the perfect opportunity to buy all his Christmas presents for people, and Fleur hoped that she was not on his list during this particular excursion. 

As the sun began to set, they decided it would be best if they headed back to the castle (McGonagall had said to return before dark). Very close to Fleur, Matthew had his arm wrapped around her shoulder and was hugging her stiff body towards himself to warm them up. He did not notice how tense the blonde was, as she was wearing a thick jacket.

"I should see if McGonagall will let us do that again," Matthew piped up after a few moments of awkward silence (silences were always awkward between them). "It was pretty fun."

"Yeah, that'd be cool…" she responded absently, feeling her nerves begin to take over. This was something she _had_to do, and she had to do it now. The girl she loved was waiting for her back in the castle…Fleur couldn't let her down, not this time. After all, it was just nerves she had to overcome, wasn't it? And what would that mean in the larger sense? Conquering nerves meant blissful happiness that awaited in the form of a beautiful seventeen-year-old girl…succumbing to nerves would not only mean the end of her perfect track record on keeping promises, but would lead to mountains of agonizing pain. So it was time to do it...she just had to do it… "There's something I wanted to talk to you about," she began slowly. This was it. Taking a deep breath, she told herself: _I can do this._

Nodding, he looked unconcerned as he glanced at her, showing that he was giving her his attention. "Sure, what's up?" he asked, absolutely clueless to what was about to come.

Opening her mouth to speak, Fleur realized that she had no idea what to say. Mentally slapping herself, she realized that she should have had least thought of something to say before she started talking. Once again, she deeply wished that she had given one of her many suitors a chance, so as she had _some_ idea how to break up with someone. She closed her mouth.

After several moments of silence, Matthew glanced at her again and noticed her pensive, but slightly irritated, expression. "What is it?" he asked, much more curious than he had been thirty seconds ago.

"I think we should break up." Fleur clenched her eyes shut and sighed deeply as she realized that her mouth had just lost connection to her brain one more time. She hadn't meant to say it like that. In fact, she had just been thinking of a nicer (though honestly, how nice could it be?), more subtle way to bring it about. Unfortunately, the words 'I think we should break up' were the last thing she thought about before he had broken their silence and her mouth, with a mind of its own, had jumped right in.

He stopped walking. "Say that again?" he requested, not sure if he heard correctly what his girlfriend had just said to him.

Sliding out from under his arm, she took a couple of steps backward, noticing the brutal cold immediately stab at her skin as it seeped through her jacket. There was no taking back what she just said, but she realized, much to her surprise, that her nerves had disappeared and she was no longer afraid. "I think…I think it would be best if we didn't see each other anymore," she said slowly, trying to be like Hermione and think of the correct words to say before she spoke. Suddenly, it hit her like a powerful blast of freezing wind; she_ wanted_ things to be over between her and Matthew. Sure, he had been an amazing boyfriend to her, but she was currently missing out the one thing that ever really made her happy. As unjustifiable as it was, she felt slightly resentful towards him for getting in the way of thing she could have had months ago, though, she knew, it was in no way his fault.

"What do you mean?" He looked so confused, and hurt started to slip into his brown eyes as he looked at her, not quite believing what she was saying.

Should she be honest? That would be the noblest approach, but not the wisest however. Instead, she settled for saying, "I don't know when it happened…but I guess my feelings for you seemed to go away." Which was very true. She really had liked him a lot, but he was her second choice. And right now, Fleur was very eager to get to her first choice and tell her that she hadn't messed this up; that she had actually broken up with him. Rocking on her feet, she waited impatiently for him to say something.

"Oh…" He was lost on words, couldn't fathom the slightest idea what to say. Fleur just told him they were broken up…where had that come from? It was so random that he still had trouble believing it. Her words hurt him, yes, but it still didn't quite sink in.

"I'm _really_ sorry," she apologized, mustering up as much sincerity as she possible could. Despite the tiny bit of pain laced in his eyes, he simply looked to be in shock.

"Is there some way you want me to respond to this?" All of a sudden, he looked fierce, as a touch of anger slipped onto his expression.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"You didn't give me any sign whatsoever that this was coming…just seems so random. Kind of surreal like," he said. Another moment passed. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

"Like, a week," she answered honestly. His expression was so hard to read, his features like stone, his eyes, completely emotionless; much different than they were mere seconds ago. It was impossible to tell what he felt at that moment.

"Oh…" That was something, wasn't it? At least she hadn't sunk so low as to lead him for weeks, or even worse: months. There was nothing he could do though…if she wanted to break up with him, then that was that. What else was there to it? The one thing he knew of Fleur was that as bipolar as she was, once she had her mind set, it would take a supreme effort to change it. It did not mean he wasn't hurt; on the contrary, he had never felt his heart ache the way it did now. He had never let himself get so close to a person before…but years of hiding what he was truly feeling from his dorm mates and friends made it easy for him to hide what he felt now.

She had not expected it to be so simple; she had thought there would be a little more emotion, maybe some yelling, maybe some tears (probably her own), but she hadn't expected this kind of silence. Matthew was taking this really…well. And suddenly she felt quite stupid; if she knew it would have been this easy, she would have done it the day she and Hermione kissed in their dormitory. "I'm going to…I'm going to head back now." She pointed towards the castle as though to further clarify her point. There was nothing left for her to say; she figured it acceptable to leave now. Staring at his stony face for a moment longer, she waited to see if he had any last words, while slowly backing away. When he said nothing, she turned around began to jog back to the castle, even more eager to get to Hermione now. She had done it…it was finally over.

Staring at Fleur's retreating form, Matthew finally let the tears begin to fall. Tonight was going to be the night he told her he loved her, and he truly believed that she was going to say it back. He was also going to bring up the subject of sex…Fleur wouldn't have sex unless she was in love, she had told him that at the beginning of their relationship, and so he never pressured her. But it looks like nothing was going to happen…nothing would ever happen between him and his now ex-girlfriend again.

And the simple thought of that killed him.

* * *

Hermione was in the far corner of the common room attempting to read a book to distract herself from how nervous she felt at that moment, though it was a very vain attempt. The truth of the matter was that even if Fleur hadn't broken up with Matthew, she did not have the strength or will power to end things between her and the blonde. Before, when she had been so angry at the other girl, she was able to say it quite simply, hoping her emotions would help persuade Fleur. But now that she's cooled down…she realized that she would gladly be the younger girl's deep, dark secret if it meant they would still be together. Honestly, Hermione did not have the strength to go through the agony of losing Fleur. Once was enough, in her opinion. Once had nearly killed her. 

The portrait hole opened and a red-face, out of breath Fleur climbed in, nearly tripping over her own feet to get inside. The blonde's eyes scanned the room, trying to find the girl she had just run across the entire castle for (the older girl had seen her the moment she entered the common room). When Fleur's eyes locked on hers, she smiled brightly, flashing impossibly white teeth. The weight on Hermione's shoulders was suddenly lifted and for the first time in months, she felt that everything was going to be okay.

_The common room was quite crowded when Fleur returned from her walk with Gabrielle, though it was very quiet, as people were still tired from the night before. She caught sight of Hermione sitting by the fireplace with Harry and Ron and she felt saddened by looking at her. Last night had been one of the worst of her life, and that was saying a lot when compared to everything she went through while growing up, and all the things she had to deal with in the household she now spent a month and a half in every year. _

_Glancing up from the book she was reading, something she did every minute or so to see if her best friend had returned yet, Hermione was slightly startled when she saw Fleur gazing sadly at her from just inside the portrait hole and she immediately jumped to her feet, rushing over to her._

_Fleur smiled softly at the brunette as she approached, feeling touched at the look of sincere concern on her beautiful features. "It was really cold outside," she said, shivering as though to prove her point. _

_Hermione smiled slightly and pulled the girl into a warm hug, wrapping her arms securely around the blonde's torso. "Are you all right?" she asked, rubbing her hands along Fleur's back soothingly._

_Nodding into the girl's neck, she sighed. "Yeah. Gabrielle just decided to play concerned sister for once in her life is all."_

"_Oh…" Hermione did not know what to say to that. She knew of the absentee role the blonde's sister played and how it saddened the girl over the years that Gabrielle would not pay her the slightest bit of attention. "Is that a good thing?" she wondered._

_Shrugging, she answered. "I don't know." The common room seemed too quiet and their exchange seemed too loud when contrasted to the silence, which suddenly made Fleur feel very awkward. She reluctantly pulled out of the other girl's embrace and stared sadly at her, unconsciously flipping her hair out of her face. "So what have you been up to?"_

"_Just reading. Are you going to come sit with us?" she asked, wary that the other girl might say no and go to their dormitory. Of course, Hermione would follow, not keen on letting Fleur out of her sight again. That walk with Gabrielle had been long enough, she thought._

_When the blonde nodded, she felt relieved and led her over to the fireplace to warm up and have a relaxing day with her friends._

* * *

A/N: I got incredibly sick of writing my Art History paper, so I decided to finish this chapter off. I hope you guys found it worth the wait. Fleur finally broke up with Matthew, and I answered the question about her virginity, which I can guess some of you have been wondering about. With finals coming up, I don't know when I'm going to update again. But spring break is in a couple of weeks, and I'll have a lot more free time on my hands. But as for the direction the upcoming chapters will go in--I've been considering writing scenes of a more racy nature. Is that something you guys would like, or would you like me to leave it out? I've never written that kind of stuff before but I'm up for trying anything. Thank you to all my reviewers as you guys are my motivation to continue writing this fic. 

Hope you enjoyed!


	9. Chapter 9

_Their dormitory was a bit of a disappointment when __an eleven-year-old __Fleur stepped inside for the first time. It was a smaller version of the circular common room__ downstairs__, only instead of couches and tables, there were four beds and nightstands, and there was no fireplace. Sh__e wondered how cold it would __get without any source of warmth__. Compared to the rest of this__ wondrous castle, with its countless __moving __staircases, __animated__ portrait__s (Gabrielle had told her about these, but she had never seen them before__), and its overall gigantic size, this room seemed rather dull. Maybe she had expected something bigger and grander, but then she remembered that it really was just a school…a magical school that she stubbornly hoped was better than the Beauxbatons Academy in France, which Gabrielle attended. _

_Her older sister always had a way of making Fleur feel very down about herself. Three years ago, the older girl was visited by a giant sized woman, Madam Maxime, when Fleur had been visiting their house in France__ over the summer__ Imagine her irritation and envy as she listened to the older girl go on and on about how she was a witch and she, Fleur, was not__, for the rest of her stay. E__very summer since, she would seethe in jealousy as Gabrielle happily babbled abo__ut how extraordinary Beauxbatons and __performing magic was. _

_When Fleur had gotten her letter from Hogwarts__ in the middle of July__, she had been absolutely thrilled, and one of the first things she did was call her sister and shriek excitedly that she had magical powers as well. Gabrielle had not sounded too happy to hear that__, and __huffily hung up on Fleur__, once again making her feel horrible. Why couldn't Gabrielle be excited for her for once in her li__fe? The one thing she had wanted since she was eight __had finally co__me true and the only person who was happy about this w__as her mother. Her father barely__ even smile__d__ when she showed him the __letter;__ however, he did take her to Diagon Alley to buy her things._

_There was already someone occupying __the second bed on the left of the door. It was the bushy haired girl Fleur had heard talking non-stop for the entire feast, and she inwardly winced. The girl had annoyed her incessantly with her continuous twittering and she hoped that it would not carry on after she went to bed__ as she did not think she could sleep through the obnoxious trill__. Not quite remembering the brunette's name, Fleur simply ignored her and contemplated which bed __she__ should take. However, the __girl had other ideas._

_"You're Fleur Delacour," she stated, and the blonde clenched her jaw tightly, finding the other girl's high-pitched tone to be extremely grating. _

_"Yeah." How she wished she could remember the brunette's name…a name to all of that bushy hair should have been easy to remember__. "Hi."_

_"We didn't ge__t a chance to talk during the feast__. I'm Hermione Granger." _

_That's what it was! __Hermione! What a strange__ name…__ "It's nice to meet__ you—or, I guess, technically I've already met you seeing as we had dinner together, but I didn't talk to you so I'm not entirely sure if that would actually be__ considered_ seeing _you as opposed to _meeting_ you, but I'm meeting you now, so I guess my original statement of 'it's nice to meet you' applies."_

_Hermione's eyes grew wider and wider during Fleur's babble__, and by the time it__ was finished__, her head was tilted to the side and she looked like an owl. "It's nice to meet you too," she said uncertainly. The blonde was pretty, yes, but she sure did have a running mouth. "Which bed are you going to take?" _

_Having already decided on taking the bed farthest away from __the annoying brunette, Fleur was just about to point to the bed on the right side of the door when Hermione said, "Because you should take this one." She pointed to the bed on the left side of the door, next to her._

_"I should?"_

_"Yes."_

_Waiting for further explanation, Fleur was politely puzzled when Hermione offered no more. However, she saw a hopeful look in the other girl's eyes__ and realized that for whatever reason, she _wanted_ the blonde to take the bed next to her. "Okay…" she said slowly, taking a tentative step towards the bed. Disappointment was a sorrowful friend she was all too familiar with and she knew the other girl would be somewhat disappointed if she did not take the bed next to her…for whatever reason. However, it did not mean that Fleur liked the girl: her voice was so annoying and her hair was obscenely bushy, which bothered her for some reason. _

_Looking happy, Hermione turned around and pulled her pajamas out of her __trunk, stripping off her __robes and pulling on her sleep attire. Once she was dressed, she turned back around and watched as Fleur carelessly threw her clothing about, in search for her own pajamas.__ A scowl appeared on her face.__"Fleur, you're making a mess." Not only did she have a running mouth but she was messy as well…this was going to be a fantastic seven years; Hermione hated clutter.__ Her room at hom__e was __always pristinely clean._

_"Yes," she confirmed, amused at the brunette's complete state of the obvious. Standing up, she shook her shoulder-length hair out of her face and smirked at the per__turbed look on Hermione's face. The girl obviously hated mess._

_"Are you going to clean it?"_

_"Yes." __Catching sight of her pajamas on the floor (had she not noticed she threw them?) Fleur bent to retrieve them. "Tomorrow possibly." She slide o__ut of her robes and pulled her tie out of her sweater__ and wondered __when the black had turned red and gold. __"Maybe the day after," she said absently, changing into her warm pajamas. "__Perhaps even the day after that." She stood up straight and smiled at the other girl. "__All depends on what I feel like."_

_Not seeming to li__ke this answer, Hermione's scowl deepened__. Apparently this girl was used to doing whatever she p__leased and the brunette was curious as to__ what__ kind of family Fleur might come from__. "So what do you think of the castle?" she asked conversationally. "I can't wait for classes tomorrow."_

_"The castle's amazing." After eyeing the thick comforter appreciatively, she pulled it back __to reveal clean, white sheets. "And classes should be interesting." Climbing into bed, she wondered how much longer Hermione was going to want to talk for.__ It was reasonable for her to want to get some sleep before school tomorrow._

_"What subject are you most interested in? Personally, I think Transfiguration will be fascinating." Sitting on the edge of Fleur's mattres__s, she looked at her eagerly_

_Staring for at her for a moment, Fleur realized just how excited Hermione was__ and would feel bad if she brought it down with her disinterested attitude. "I don't know yet; they all sound interesting. Like Potions; the concept mixing ingredients together to make poisons, antidotes, and other stuff sounds really cool. And Charms sounds lik__e it might be great fun," she said, crossing her legs and leaning forward_

_"Oh, so you're muggle born?" she concluded, deducing that fact from her lack of knowledge__ on the magical world_

_Nodding, Fleur noticed how smooth the back of Hermione's hands looked__ as she fiddled with the draw strings on her pajama pants__. "Yeah. My sister__'s a witch too, and she goes to Beauxbatons__, but that's because she lives in France with my mum."_

_"Are you originally from France?"_

_"Mm hmm, __but I moved to England when I was six," Fleur told h__er, slowly—_slowly—_slipping into ease with the bushy-haired girl. As annoying as she was, there was something about her personality that she was drawn to. Maybe it was her deep i__nterest in the world around her__ and the blonde was not used to people actually caring about what she said._

_"Can you still speak French?" she asked curiously._

_"Yeah." She nodded. "I spend half of summer in France every ye__ar with my mum. She won't allow me to__ forget__ it__."__ Her tone sounded rather fond, and Hermione made a mental not__e that Fleur was probably very__ close to her mother.__ "What about you? You're muggle born __too, __right?"_

_"Mm hmm." Nodding eagerly, she continued. "Professor McGonagall came to my house over the summer and explained it all to me. It was so exciting!"_

_"Yeah, same here, minus the visit from McGonagall—that woman scares me—but I was so happy when I got my letter. Gabrielle wasn't too thrilled though." When Fleur had finally gone to stay with her mother and sister, the older girl had barely looked at her, so mad she was that she was no longer the __"__unique__"__ daughter. Yawning widely, she realized that she really should get some sleep_

_Hermione noticed the yawn and __figured that th__ey should probably go to bed soon__ They should all be well rested for the start of classes tomorrow. The mere thought of waking up to begin their magical education brought a giddy grin to her face__. However, she wanted to finish their conversation__ first__. "Is Gabrielle your sister?" _

_Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Fleur nodded. "Yeah; she's in her fourth year now."_

_"I read about Beauxbatons when I did some reading on the wizarding world over the summer; Hogwarts has a far better reputation then they do. Madam Maxime, their headmistress, guards the secrets of their palace so well that there's hardly any information on it at all. Rather disappointing actually…"_

_Smirking, Fleur felt satisfaction knowing that she went to a better school than Gabrielle.__ It also struck her as interesting that Hermione had already done so much research. Sure, the blonde had read a few books here and there, but the fact that ther__e really was a magical world had__ not hit her until she received her letter from Hogwarts. __"Seeing is believing" was her unconscious motto. Since Gabrielle was not allowed to do magic on her summer breaks, she could never quite __grasp that there was a whole other__ world disguised within their own. __When it finally became real to her, Fleur was too busy spending time with her __mother__ to do any reading on the subject. "So you like to read?"_

_Hermione looked at her as though she had sprouted two more heads. _

_Pause. "I'll be taking that as a yes then."_

_"I absolutely _love_ to read! I was always to__p of my class in primary school, and I've already read most of my textbooks.__"_

_Not sure if she was bragging or not, Fleur nodded politely. "That's great." Her voice was laced with fake interest and she realized that Hermione would probably be the most prepared for classes tomorrow if she had already read most of their books. She, herself, had only read a little past the first chapter in each, as she figured it would be useless to read if she could not practice the spells along with them.__Her memory was dreadful. __"Hey," she looked around the room as though to indicate the absence of their two other roommates, "where are Lavender and Parvati? I haven't seen them since the feast."_

_Glancing around the room, she also shrugged. "I dunno. They should get up here soon though. We need to get some sleep if we want to be ready for classes tomorrow." She tapped her fingers with eager excitement._

_"Yeah," Fleur took this as a cue to tell the other girl she was ready for bed, "yeah, I think sleep is a good idea. We should go to bed." It was difficult to admit, but she was sorry she had judged the brunette so quickly because now, after __a short __five minutes of talking, she found that she actually liked her…even if she was still a tiny bit annoying._

_Nodding, Hermione was just about to answer when the dormitory door slammed open and two energetic girls bounced in. __When Parvati saw Fleur and Hermione sitting on the blonde's bed, she smiled. "Hi," she said brightly, giving a little wave. Fleur noticed a camera in her__ other hand, and__ wondered if it was magical. "I was just taking pictures of the castle with my new camera. I can't believe I'm finally here…" Moving forward, she claimed the last free bed in the room (Lavender had immediately taken the bed on the right side of the door). _

_"Is that a camera that can take moving pictures?" Fleur asked curiously. She would have gotten up __to go and get a closer look at__ the interesting piece of equipment, but she was far too warm under the comforter, though she was not too fond of how stiff the mattress felt._

_"Mm hmm; it's my first one. My parents wouldn't get me one before now." She had put the camera on the bed and was now sorting through her trunk, looking for her paja__mas. Lavender did the same_

_"That's so cool," she said appreciatively. "The only moving pictures I've seen are the ones on the Chocolate Frogs cards I got on the train…and all of the portraits of course. But those are kind of creepy."_

_"You want me to take a picture of you?" she asked, turning around after she found what she was looking for. "I can give it __to you after I have them developed__." Eying Hermione, who was still sitting on Fleur's bed, she reached for the camera. "I can take a picture of both of you__, if you like__."_

_"Sure! That'd be cool!" She suddenly aware that she had just used the word 'cool' twice in less than fifteen seconds and for some reason that made her chuckle__. Hermione, the only one who had heard her, gave her a curious look but said nothing._

_"Here we go." Holding up the camera, Parvati waited until Fleur and Hermione were both smiling before clicking the button. _

The photograph of eleven-year-old Fleur and Hermione stared up at Fleur, blinking and smiling. The blonde let out the occasional silent chuckle, in which the older girl would turn and give her a weird look. Fleur's hair had been shorter and a much darker blonde and her body had filled out quite nicely since she was that age. Hermione, on the other hand, bore little resemblance to her previous self; her hair was shorter and wavy now, as opposed to the insufferable amounts of bushy hair she used to have. Looking at how large her front teeth were, Fleur recalled the incident in fourth year when Hermione let Madam Pomfrey shrink her teeth until they were of normal size. And that high pitched, annoying voice the blonde had disliked so much was gone, replaced by a slightly deeper, soothing sort of tone.

Fleur remembered that day vividly, as it was the first time she met the girl she would grow to love. It amused her how much Hermione had irritated her at first; she always raised her hand before everyone else in class had a chance to even think, and she would force Fleur to do her homework when all she wanted to do was relax. However, when Hermione began to spend more time with Harry and Ron and less time with her after the troll incident on Halloween, the blonde found herself desperately missing the other girl. No matter how grating she could be when it came to homework and studying, she really was an excellent friend to Fleur, always listening to her problems and trying to help, and never passing a single judgment. They grew closer again a couple of weeks later, after Hermione realized that she was neglecting her first friend at Hogwarts. She had apologized profusely, while the blonde said nothing, just happy that she had her friend back.

The bathroom door opened and Hermione stepped out, wearing a tank top and pink flannel pajama pants. For a moment, she stared at her girlfriend, who was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking at the book she held in her lap. Neither Lavender nor Parvati was in the room at the moment, so Hermione padded over to the blonde's bed, climbed on, and situated herself behind Fleur, propping herself up with her right hand and sliding her left arm around the younger girl's waist. "Hey," she murmured, and lightly kissed her neck. She caught sight of her younger self staring up at her from the other girl's lap. "Oh god, I cannot believe you're looking at that!" Laughing, she shook her head. It was embarrassing for her to look at photos that far in the past.

Chuckling, Fleur remembered that Hermione always hated pictures of herself, especially before she changed her appearance in third year, cutting off several inches of her bushy hair to make it more manageable. "I got bored waiting for you to finish you're Transfiguration essay," she said, shrugging.

"You have your own Transfiguration essay to do," the brunette argued as Fleur turned herself around, gently pushing against Hermione's stomach, urging her to move back.

"I did it already." Lying down, she rested her head against the fluffy pillow and admired her girlfriend's state of dress. Hermione's exposed neck and collarbone were just begging to be kissed and if she wasn't so tired, she probably would have leaned up and done just that.

Raising an eyebrow, Hermione looked incredulous. "You did?" she asked disbelievingly. The other girl staring so openly staring at her neck made her feel slightly warm. She knew how much Fleur loved to pay attention to that area…and she was well aware of how much she, herself, enjoyed it.

"Nope," Fleur piped, without missing a beat, so that the brunette laughed; always a lovely sound in her opinion. "But I thought a lot about doing it."

"Fleur, it's due—"

"On Wednesday, I know. I've still got two more nights to do it." Settling further into her pillow, she smiled up at Hermione. "You worry too much."

"I know…but someone has to."

The brunette looked so serious that it made Fleur's heart flutter, and she wondered how she could have been so lucky to have Hermione in her life. The other girl always looked out for her, far better than anyone else ever had, including her mother. However, she did not like to include her mother on the neglecting list as she was barely allowed to see Fleur, so it was understandable that she could not always be there for her. And she wasn't so needy that she needed people to constantly worry over her. With the type of household she lived in now, she could take care of herself just fine. Only, she liked it when Hermione worried over her. "I'm glad it's you," she said, mustering as much sincerity as she could because she wanted the other girl to know how much she truly appreciated it.

Blushing, Hermione stared down at the album that was lying on Fleur's thighs. If someone had told her younger self that she would grow to fall in love with the talkative blonde she decided to befriend on their first day five years ago, she would have thought them insane. Fleur was pretty, yes, but Hermione could not imagine herself ending up with someone who was as messy and carefree as the other girl. She needed stability. Plus, there was that tiny fact that Fleur was a _girl_. Not that she was so close-minded that she thought being with a girl was wrong; she just never considered the possibility that she would fall in love with one. However, when she realized that she did have feelings for the blonde, it was surprisingly easy for her to accept. Love was love, was it not? And life was far too short to deny that love, in her opinion. As the years went on, Hermione gradually grew to think Fleur's carefree attitude and messiness as endearing instead of irritating. And it did not take Hermione too long to realize that the blonde offered her the stability she desired; always being the steady friend she could rely on whenever she needed her, and never wavering in loyalty not even once. Fleur truly was the one for her, and she was so happy the blonde was hers only and not torn between her day time reality and her night time secret like before.

Two weeks had passed since her breakup with Matthew. Barely anyone knew about it until days after it occurred, and then it spread like wildfire throughout the entire school. Everyone was completely baffled and could not fathom why they had broken up, as they had been such the 'perfect couple.' Normally, it would have irritated Hermione to hear this, but she was far too happy to let something like that get to her. Their time together was limited because of homework and Quidditch, but they made the most of their moments alone, sneaking kisses in the girl's restroom, walking close together as she accompanied Fleur to Care of Magical Creatures (she was the only student in the class), and at the end of the day, they crawled into whomever's bed they made it to first, closed the curtains, and spent an intimate hour or so with each other before going to sleep.

"Hey, what're you thinking?" Fleur asked softly, resting her hand on top of the older girl's thigh. Hermione had been silent for at least a minute now. The blonde had been perfectly content to gaze at her beautiful face, but she was curious to know what was going on inside the other girl's head.

Broken out of her thoughts, Hermione shook her head and pointed at the album on the blonde's lap. "I'm just thinking about how much we've had to overcome to get where we are right now." She allowed herself a reminiscent smile before reaching out to shut the curtains. After muttering a quick silencing charm (she did not know when Lavender and Parvati would come up for bed), she laid down on her side, propping her head up with her elbow so as she was looking down at Fleur.

Nodding, the younger girl agreed. "Indeed; we've been through a lot." Her breath hitched when Hermione slid a hand under her shirt and caressed her rock-hard abs. She recalled the memory from two nights ago in the bathroom, where Hermione's fascination with Fleur's stomach had reached a peak and she finally indulged on something a little more daring than anything she had previously done.

_Quidditch practice had been good fun that night. Since their victory against the Slytherins last Saturday, Ron's confidence had greatly improved, which showed during practices as he blocked each and every Quaffle throw__n at the goal hoops__ wit__h ease. His new attitude toward__ the game had a large impact on the moods of practice and everybody was doing much better than they had all season. However, when Fleur threw the Quaffle to Demelza, she did not see the oncoming bludger until it was too late and she nosedived into the__ muddy grass two feet below __to avoid __the raging, brown sphere__ and another injury__. Far from getting hurt, she, and the rest of team, had found the broom dive to be incredibly funny, so, in good spirits, they trudged back up to the common room an hour later, laughing the entire way as they replayed __the blonde's accident over and over. _

_"Fleur, you're covered in mud," was the first thing Hermione said to her when they met up in the common room. _

_She grinned widely, wondering how she must have looked. The only place she could see the dirt was on her robes__, but could imagine that her hair and face were caked with brown gunk (she had rolled quite a few times__ before coming to a stop__. "Yeah, I fell off my broom." Off the older girl's alarmed look, she quickly added, "I was, like, two feet off the ground; it was fine. The mud broke my fall."_

_"So you're okay__ then__?" she asked uncertainly and __still looking worried._

_Nodding, Fleur continued to grin, still in a fantastic mood. "Never better. But I think I'm going to __go and wash up real quick. Some__ mud__ got in my pants __when I skidded __and it…__well, it feels rather __disgusting," she finished, sparing her girlfriend, and any of the surrounding listeners, the unnecessary details._

_Hermione nodded slowly and gazed at her as she made her way through the crowded common room and up the staircase to the girls'__ dormitories, along with Ginny a__nd Demelza, who were also very __dirty, but didn't __quite __look as __though they had taken a mud bath_

_"So what's up with you and Hermione?" Ginny asked nonchalantly__ after they departed with Demelza, glancing at the blonde out of the corner of her eye._

_"What do you mean?" Fleur said, unsuspecting of the younger girl's underlying meaning. She spared a quick look at her before quickly turning her attention to the steps in front of __them __so as s__he did not trip, which was too common an occurrence because of narrowness of the steps._

_Pausing__ at by the fifth year dormitory door, Ginny placed her hand on the door handle but did not turn it as she glanced at Fleur, who leaned against the stone wall. "You guys just seem a lot closer these days," she said. The sharp contrast between the blonde's dirty face and her blue eyes was very interesting to look at._

_Scratching the back of her neck, Fleur shrugged. "We made up is all." Over her years at Hogwarts, she had grown very close to the younger girl, much closer than she had ever been with Ron, who was in her own year. She preferred Ginny's wicked sense of wit__ and intelligence__ over her older brother's lack of deep perception, __and found __that the shorter girl was much better company._

_"Is that really all?" she asked innocently._

_Now Fleur w__as beginning to get suspicious. However, looking closely at Ginny, examining her eyes for any betrayal of emotion that might give away the __true __intentions of her question, the blonde could find nothing. Her eyebrows and the left side of her mouth were raised, silently encouraging Fleur to an__swer. Feeling a nervous sweat form on her palms, she crossed her arms. "Yeah," she responded slowly, enunciating the word. "Should there be something else?"_

_Shrugging her eyebrow__s, Ginny smiled. "Dunno. Just wondering, I guess." She pulled the handle down, opening the door. "Go take a shower, Fleur; the mud's starting to dry." And she quickly stepped into her dormitory, shutting the door with a quiet _bang.

_The blonde continued to lean against the wall and stare worriedly at the spot the younger girl had just vacated, wondering if she knew something__ that she shouldn't__. She and Hermione had been nothing but careful these past few weeks, never allowing themselves to__ touch each other in ways that would allow people to form the wrong idea__. After Fleur had broken up with Matthew, the pair had discussed the possibility of them coming out to their friends, but had decided that for the time being it would be best if they kept quiet. They trusted their friends, yes, but they did not want to take any chances of Matthew finding out about them, purely for the__ sake of his feelings. This had been Hermione'__s idea__, much to Fleur's surprise. The blonde had __been thinking about it herself, but had not said anything__ in case her tentativeness towards the boy's feelings would upset her girlfriend. However, it had been the brunette __who said that they should keep silent about their relationship, for now at least, so as Matthe__w had some time to get over Fleur._

_After gazing at the closed door for a few moments, she continued up the stairs to her dormitory, choking down her paranoia by telling herself that there was no way Ginny could have found out about her relationship with Hermione. She had not told her anything, and Hermione had definitely not told her anything, therefore she didn't know…right?__ Besides the wistful looks they threw at each other, there really wasn't anything that could have given them away. _

_Forty-five minutes later, Fleur stood in front of the steamed mirror combing the tangles out of her blonde locks. She had taken much longer in the shower than she expected as the dried mud had been very difficult to wash out__. However, she was in no rush to hurry__ back__ down to the common room, for the only thing that awaited her was a large pile of homework__. Sure, her beautiful girlfriend was also down there, but Hermione was more of a distraction than a study aid, as Fleur much rather preferred to stare at her than the dry text of her spell books._

_There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Come in!" she called. Though the bathroom was made for two people to wash (two showers, two sinks, and two toilet rooms), the girls had all decided that it would be courtesy to knock before entering. Figuring that it was Lavender coming in to grab her hairbrush (which she had forgotten on the edge of her and Parvati's s__ink), Fleur whirled around in __surprise when Hermione opened the door and slipped inside. "Hermione, what're you doing in here?"__ she squeaked.__ Glancing down at her state of dress, she quickly crossed her arms over her stomach, feeling far more self-conscious__ about her body now that they were in a relationship_

_"You were taking too long and I wanted to see if everything was all right,"__ she answered__, looking slightly shocked and a little embarrassed to have walked in on Fleur when she was not fully dressed. Despite herself, she was unable to resist the urge to openly sta__re at the__ attractive body__ before her__. The blonde wore__ nothing but a black sports bra and jeans, which rested dangerously low on her hips. She did a ve__ry poor job of covering herself__ and Hermione saw the taller girl glance at the door behind her, where her shirt was hanging.__ "Fleur, it's like a sauna in here__. How hot of a shower did you take?"__ Swallowing hard, Hermione grabbed the shirt off of the hook, and crossed the large bathroom on shaky legs to give it__ to her half-dressed girlfriend, more and more wary to keep her eyes on Fleur's face the closer she got._

_"It wasn't too hot, just long." Perhaps cold would have been a better idea. Sweat began to form on her body and her breathing grew heavy__ as Hermione came closer__. "Thanks," she said, uncrossing her arms__ and accepting the offered shirt. _

_"You're welcome," Hermione responded hoarsely. __Thi__s feeling of immediate, burning__ de__sire…it was something new. Countless times she had walked in on the girl partially dressed, but it had never affected her this strongly before__. Previously, she had never allowed herself to think anything beyond, 'wow, she has a nice body,' but now…now, staring at Fleur's half-dressed form, all she wanted to do was reach out and touch her. Especially that stomach; she absolutely adored her girlfriend's stomach__ and was dying to __caress those rock-hard abs. Her lips as well__…mouth half open, Hermione's eyes were drawn to the blonde's lips. They looked so red and kissable…_

_Blushing under the brunette's obvious scrutin__y, Fleur turned around slightly to pull on her shirt. There was something incredibly intimate about the moment, which had the blonde feeling incredibly aroused. Perhaps it was the fact that she was not wearing a shirt, which was normally the first thing removed when a couple were about to make love. The thought of making love to Hermione frequently crossed her mind, but she knew that neither of them was near ready for that step of their relationship. As attractive an idea __as sex was, Fleur knew, for the time being, that was all it was going to be. _

_Though she desperately wanted to (desire was a difficult temptation to battle), the blonde refrained from initiating any act of physical intimacy with the girl in front of her, not wanting Hermione to think that she was pressuring her into __anything. Clearing her throat, she asked, "So how are you?" Her voice was still rather squeaky, and she pulled the shirt on over her head, immediately feeling the comfort and safety of hiding behind the tight fabric wash over her._

_Hermione was rather grateful that Fleur had finally put a shirt on, as she was not quite ready for whatever physical intimacies which might ensue if the blonde had decided to kiss her with no shirt__, for she knew she would have been__ powerless to stop her. However, the heavy atmosphere of the moment still lay thick in the air and, feeling much more comfortable now that they were on familiar territory (both clothed), Hermione launched herself at her girlfriend, not entirely ready for the moment to be over. She __would not allow herself to satisfy her innermost desire to make love to the blonde__ just yet, but kissing was an urge reasonable to satisfy._

_Fleur was completely unprepared for Hermione's sudden attack, and muttered a cry of surprise into the older girl's mouth as she stumbled backwards, the wall behind her the only thing to stop her from falling over. "Wasn't expecting that," she mumbled into the kiss, gripping the brunette's waist tightly.__ Hermione rarely ever initiated a heavy kiss,__ such as this,__ much rather preferring to follow her girlfriend's lead…not that Fleur was complaining this time around. _

_Placing her hands on the stone wall behind Fleur's elbows, Hermione groaned and slipped her tongue into the blonde's mouth when she felt her roughly massage her backside and press their hips tightly together. All form of coherency was gone now and Hermione wondered how Fleur could speak in complete sentences, as she, herself, knew she would not be able to do the same__ if she tried__. Physical intimacy with the blonde __always rendered her completely speechless, for she had far better things to focus on; such as the burning lips trailing her jaw line before working on her neck. "Couldn't," she grunted as Fleur scraped her teeth against her neck, "help it." She involuntarily squirmed as the younger girl__ sucked her earlobe into her mouth, gently biting on it before she continued on to lick the rim of her ear; a feeling she found to be _incredibly_ enjoyable.__ Mouth half open, Hermione let out a high pitched moan of pleasure and moved her hands to tightly grip Fleur's arms. _

_"It is _so_ hot when you moan that loud," the blonde breathed hotly into her ear before moving her lips back along Hermione's neck, sucking on the offered skin._

_Tilting her head to the side to make Fleur's job easier, the older girl couldn't help but roll her eyes, amused at her girlfriend's use of muggle slang. It was sometime after they had first started making out that Hermione realized that the blonde really enjoyed it __when she vocalized her pleasure, as the intensity of their kissing always increased when an unsuppressed moan escaped her throat. __Though it was __sometimes quite embarrassing to do so, she made sure not to__ quiet it. "Oh, shut up." She gasped__ as Fleur gently bit down on her neck._

_Feeling a bolt of arousal shoot straight to her core, the blonde reattached their lips into a sloppy kiss, accidently opening her mouth too wide when Hermione's was still half-closed. __"Sorry," she muttered, far too turned on to feel any sort of embarrassment because of her small mistake. __Had Hermione made the same error, she knew the brunette would have been reluctant to do anything else for a while. She had grown more confident in her skills, just as Fleur told her she would, but mistakes she made still greatly affected her. _

_"I love your stomach." Coherency was a struggle but she somehow managed. Pressing her fingers__ into the younger girl's abdomen__, Hermione rubbed, admiring how hard and solid they were. Her __fascination with Fleur's stomach __was something she could neither q__uell nor describe, and she simply loved to run her palms over, pressing in and testing the muscles. Perhaps it was the sheer intimacy of the moment that made the brunette feel comfortable with what she did next…which was break the messy kiss they were engaged in, smile shyly, and drop to her knees. The cold tile of the bathroom floor seeping through her jeans was a sharp contrast to the hot, steamy air, and goosebumps arose on Hermione's arms._

_"Whoa, what're you doing?" Fleur asked, out of breath and confused as the brunette lifted up her shirt up her shirt. Hermione didn't answer, and a moment later, __it became clear what she was doing. "Oh…" Fleur half moaned as the older girl began to kiss her stomach. "I suppose that works." She wasn't quite sure why she was talking or if any of the words she said actually made sense. Never had Hermione done something this adventurous to her before…and the eroticism of the moment was not lost on her. The first couple of times they had made out, the brunette was still the same old Hermione; too conscious of every move she made, and always wanting to do things the "correct way." However, the more time they spent working on the physical aspect of thei__r relationship, the less she acted__ like Hermione and the more she acted like someone who was actively willing to try new things__. This new, adventurous side to the older girl tu__rned Fleur on to no end, as she knew__ that she was the only one who would ever get to see the other girl act like this. When the brunette reached around and grabbed her ass to pull her hips in closer, Fleur nearly lost it. She grabbed Hermione's shoulders and yanked her up, spinning them around so that it was the other girl against the wall now._

_The brunette was slightly nervous now. Had Fleur not liked her kissing her stomach? Was it too much? From the sounds she was making, Hermione could not picture that being any reason she would want her to stop. She did not know what had possessed her to d__o such a thing, but she had enjoyed it immensely, l__iking the way Fleur's abs felt beneath her heated mouth. "Did you not like that?" she asked uncertainly._

_Arousal was thick in the blonde's eyes and she shook her head madly, leaning in to kiss the shorter girl gently on her swollen lips. "I liked it a little _too_ much," she said, holding her thumb and index finger half a centimeter apart. The steam of the bathroom began to make her feel a little lightheaded and as much as she wanted to continue making out with her girlfriend, the overall heat of the room was making her slightly nauseous. _

_"Oh…" Hermione understood exactly what she was saying. Somehow, she knew that she had not gone _too_ far, but neither of them __was__ ready for anything further. __Being in a relationship was still so new to both of them; they had already decided that they would take things very slow, as they did not want to __make mistakes. Both of __them were desperate for things to work out and would take the necessary steps for that to occur, which meant that they would take things slow for now. __"Are you all right?" she asked, noticing Fleur take a deep breath and exhale slowly._

_Nodding, the blonde continued her heavy breathing. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit nauseous is all. I don't do too well in heat, remember?"_

_Hermione clapped a hand against her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I completely forgot!" She felt terrible now. Prolonged heat always made the younger girl feel sick, which was why she hated spring and summer in the castle so much. _

_"It's not your fault," Fleur laughed, shaking her head. "Seriously, I'm not complaining."_

_"Still…" She shook her head, looking distressed. "Let's go get you into bed. I'll run up to the Hospital Wing and get an anti-nausea potion from Madam Pomfrey."_

_"It's after hours."_

_"Oh yeah…" She thought furiously. "I can brew it myself then. I think I remember how…"_

_"Your cauldron's in the dungeons."_

_Looking completely lost, Hermione still struggled to find some solution to the problem. __"Then I'll…I'll…ugh!__ I'm sorry.__" _

_Amused, __Fleur watched as her girlfriend failed to find an answer to this predicament. However, the blonde had an obvious solution in her mind. Stepping forward, she took Hermione's hands in her own in an attempt to calm her down a bit. All traces of previous atmosphere were gone, which made it much easier for her to think. "Really, it's all right." She felt horrible knowing that the brunette blamed herself for Fleur being sick. "I just need to lie down and I'll feel fine. No one says I can't do homework lying down."_

_"What if you fall asleep?" Hermione asked in such a small voice._

_The blonde me__rely smiled and shook her head, wondering how the shorter girl could find the tiniest of things to worry about._

The dormitory door opened five minutes later. Fleur and Hermione ignored it, and continued to cuddle in silence. The brunette loved moments like these; moments where they were alone together without any physical intimacies, where they simply talked to each other about their feelings and lives, or whatever random thing had happened to them that day. It reminded her so much of old times where they would do exactly the same thing for hours at a time, only going to bed when they had talked their throats raw.

"Fleur?" came a voice from right beside the blonde's bed.

Rolling off the sleepy girl, Hermione quickly situated herself beside her, and Fleur waited for the nod of approval before she said, "Yeah?" Neither of them had recognized whose voice it was, for they had spoken in a whisper.

The hangings slid open, revealing a pajama-clad Ginny, who raised an eyebrow when she saw Hermione lying in bed next to Fleur. The brunette quickly averted her gaze so she was staring at her feet, wary that she had still not spoken to the younger redhead about her relationship with Fleur.

"Errol's just delivered two letters and one of them is for you. Hi, Hermione." She nodded her head in the brunette's direction as she handed Fleur a sealed roll of parchment.

"Hey, Ginny. How are you?" she asked awkwardly. Had they had this encounter in the crowded common room, she would not have felt nearly as uncomfortable. Perhaps she should simply talk to the other girl about it and clear the air. It wouldn't have been so difficult if Ginny had not caught her kissing Fleur while she was still dating Matthew.

"Just finished my Charms homework so I'm doing all right. You?"

"Splendidly."

Ginny's eyebrows raised and she blinked innocently at Hermione, who had clenched her eyes shut, realizing that her answer could easily be interpreted incorrectly…though, as she thought about it, it would not be too far off. Lying in bed with Fleur tended to put her in a great mood.

Fleur, who had completely ignored their quick exchange, looked up from the letter. "Your mum's just invited me to spend Christmas break with you guys at the Burrow." She smiled widely, thrilled that she would not spend a whole two weeks by herself and bored in the castle.

"Excellent! I thought that's what it would be about. Mum hadn't realized that you and Gabrielle were related to each other until Gabrielle said something to her over the summer. She thought it would be a nice surprise for you to spend some time with your sister…"

Fleur raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You hate her, don't you?" At the beginning of last summer, she had received a letter from Gabrielle saying that she was getting married to Bill Weasley and that she was staying at the Burrow to get to know his family better. She could only imagine the hell the older blonde was putting the Weasley women through, with her high-maintenance attitude and overall breath-taking beauty, which rendered most men speechless.

Rolling her eyes, Ginny shrugged. "Hermione likes her," she offered, and grinned wickedly when the brunette blushed furiously.

"Oh really?"

Fleur's eyebrows had raised so high that they blended in with her hairline, and Hermione shot Ginny an evil look. "I think I'm going to go to bed now," she stated offhandedly, avoiding her girlfriend's eye as she quickly jumped off her bed. "Good night, Fleur. Ginny." She nodded to both of them before disappearing into the bathroom.

Frowning, Fleur turned back to Ginny. "She really likes her?" she asked uncertainly, not entirely sure how she felt about that.

Chuckling, the redhead turned to leave. Pausing at the door, she glanced back at the older girl, looking slightly sympathetic. "Remember the kind of look Ron would get whenever he was around the Beauxbaton girls?" When Fleur nodded, she continued. "Well, Hermione gets that same exact look whenever Gabrielle's around."

Grimacing, the blonde looked at her worriedly. "And did your mum invite Hermione to spend Christmas break at the Burrow as well?" she asked, not quite sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"She invited her over the summer."

"Oh…this is going to be fun."

Ginny seemed to think so too, as an amused smile lit up her face and she departed from the sixth year dormitory. Sitting on her bed and staring at her hands, Fleur hoped that she wouldn't spend the next couple of weeks dreading their upcoming break. When Hermione came out of the bathroom, she distinctly avoided the blonde's gaze and climbed directly into her own bed.

Staring at the closed curtains of her girlfriend's bed, Fleur realized Christmas would certainly be an experience that year.

* * *

A/N: Not sure when I'll be updating again, so I made this chapter a little longer than usual. Also, I posted this on my profile: "I have alternate versions of chapters 6 and 7 of _Never Lost_ that I never posted, as I had written them before I wrote 2, 3, and 4, and decided that I wanted to go in a different direction with the story. If you are interested in seeing them, please email me. Chapter Six is very short and Seven is incomplete." Hope you guys enjoyed! 


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I apologize for the delay of this chapter. Many, many things kept getting in the way, but hopefully it was worth it. If you go to my livejournal (homepage link), I've posted pictures of all the cast, including a new Fleur, Matthew, Gabrielle, Kieran, and Apolline.

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Hermione never really liked spending Christmas break with her parents. It was two weeks of unproductive boredom when, she knew, she could at least enjoy herself if she were with Fleur, Harry, and Ron. Her parents insisted that they spend as much time together as possible, but when they were with each other, it was always so quiet and awkward. There was some block that kept Hermione from indulging them on her life at Hogwarts. Perhaps it was because she knew they would not understand or be able to relate, which made it difficult to talk about. Yes, they did care, and yes, they were extremely proud of their daughter, but the moment she began to talk about Transfiguration or Herbology (she intentionally avoided the topic of Voldemort), a glazed expression slid onto their faces and they merely nodded and smiled, never fully grasping the idea that their daughter lived in an entirely different world from their own.

As the years passed, Hermione continued to find excuses to not go home during breaks or spend as little time there as possible, as she was never too keen to sit in that uncomfortable silence for longer than necessary. The summer after her second year she spent an entire two weeks at home before she and her parents went on holiday to France, where, four days into the trip, she ran into Fleur, who was shopping for new clothes with her mother. After getting permission from Apolline, the blonde eagerly invited Hermione to stay with her for the rest of the month in France, before going back to her father's house in England. With some reluctance, her parents let her go and stay with Fleur and her family, and said their goodbyes until Christmas break.

Only Hermione did not return home during break, opting instead to stay at the castle with Fleur, Harry, and Ron. They had not sounded too pleased in their responding letter, but she ignored the tugging guilt in her chest, telling herself that it would be worth it to stay at Hogwarts and get some quality reading done over the break. However, she could not escape the nagging feeling that her parents wished they had never allowed her to go to Hogwarts.

This became even more apparent in the summer before her fourth year. Gregory and Claire Granger had their daughter home for only a month before she received a letter from Ron, inviting her to go the Quidditch World Cup. Hermione knew the only reason they even let her go was because she stressed over and over that this was a "once in a lifetime event." There had still been some yelling and she had fled to her room crying, but in the end, they gave her permission.

The next two years happened in much the same style: Hermione spent as little as a week or two at home before travelling to Grimmauld Place or the Burrow, where she proceeded to spend the rest of her break. After her fourth year, the Grangers stopped putting up a fight; if she wanted to leave, they would simply let her. They came to realize that Hermione lived in a world they could never be a part of, nor understand, and they would only be holding her back if they forced her to stay at home with them. All they wanted was to have their daughter back, but they knew they had lost her years ago, the day Minerva McGonagall knocked on their front door. They loved Hermione, yes, and she loved them as well, but they had let each other go a long time ago, and simply made the most of their brief moments together.

It saddened Hermione that her relationship with her parents had come to this, but she much rather preferred to stay in the wizarding world. The familiarity and comfort it brought her was much more than she ever felt at home. This was why when Mrs. Weasley invited her to spend Christmas break at the Burrow, she immediately jumped on the opportunity. It was either go to the Burrow and spend break with her friends, or stay at the castle and spend break with Fleur, who she thought hated her at the time. As attractive an idea it was to spend time with her old best friend, she decided the former would be the wisest. It was also a plus that Gabrielle Deveaux was staying at the Burrow, and Hermione admittedly had a small crush on the older girl, as there was little difference in her and Fleur's appearance.

It never ceased to amaze her just how gorgeous the two sisters were. Honestly, beauty to that degree should not be allowed, as most men, and often Hermione, were struck speechless when in the presence of either girls. Gabrielle's was a much more mature kind of beauty, naturally graceful and elegant, and slowly adapting to the English customs, which, for some reason, made her even more attractive in Hermione's eyes. Fleur, on the other hand, was still growing into her body, as any other sixteen-year-old girl, and held none of the natural grace of her older sister. Her appearance indicated that she was more about comfort and convenience, always dressing the way _she _wanted to and not by other people's standards, and only ever applying a hint of makeup every morning. Nevertheless, she was absolutely gorgeous, inheriting the same exotic beauty as her mother Apolline.

Gazing at Fleur, who was carelessly flinging clothing into her open trunk on the floor, Hermione wondered how she could have been so lucky to fall in love with someone like her. Yes, she had her flaws, but as horrible as some of them were, Hermione knew that without them, Fleur just wouldn't be Fleur. As insufferable as the girl could be on occasion, Hermione was hopelessly in love with her, and possibly always had been. Even in their younger years she had been attracted to Fleur and her personality, but never thought to place a label on it until they were older. And the brunette knew that the abundance of positive personality traits her girlfriend possessed was enough to dim any flaws down to an occasional flash of light.

"Don't you have any packing to do?" Fleur asked, pulling several pairs of socks out of the top drawer of her dresser and tossing them into her trunk. She was curious as to why Hermione was sitting on her bed, alternating between reading a muggle novel and watching her while she packed for the next two weeks.

"I packed yesterday when you were in Care of Magical Creatures," she told her as she closed the book around her index finger to keep her page, sat up, and scooted to the edge of the bed, so as she was better able to see the mess that was the blonde's trunk. She rolled her eyes and shook her head when she saw a large heap of unfolded clothes piled up from the bottom, and a number of miscellaneous items haphazardly thrown about.

"Oh." Shrugging, Fleur returned to the task at hand. "Hmm…" She attempted to close the overstuffed trunk and failed. "Damn." Leaning over the top of its surface, the blonde used both hands to push down hard.

Amused, Hermione raised an eyebrow. She would never understand why Fleur insisted on packing her entire wardrobe for a two-week long holiday. There was simply no need for all the clothing she tried to force into her trunk, as Mrs. Weasley did laundry at least twice a week. "Would you like some help?" she offered, trying not to laugh when the younger girl continuously failed to shut her trunk.

Glancing at Hermione, Fleur could see how entertained she was by this. She imagined that if it was books she was trying to fit into her trunk, the brunette would be a little more sympathetic, and that thought made her smile fondly. Standing up, she straightened out the thighs of her jeans and sat down at the edge of her bed. "Help would be nice," she decided, wanting to finish up so she could enjoy her last hour alone at the castle with Hermione. Once they reached the Burrow, their time alone would be severely limited, as they would be sharing a bedroom with Ginny during their break.

Pleased that she did not refuse her aid (for there were many people that would be stubborn and decline any offered help), Hermione took her wand from her nightstand and flicked her wrist in the direction of the trunk. All the clothing inside neatly folded itself, and with another flick, the rest of Fleur's accessories and toiletries piled against the side. "There you go," she said, placing her wand, along with her book, back on her nightstand.

Impressed, Fleur slid her foot underneath the lid, lifted her leg upwards, and watched as the trunk closed with ease. "That certainly saves me a lot of time. Thanks," she said cheerfully, moving across the floor space between their four-posters and plopping down next to the other girl.

Hermione smiled softly as the blonde laced their fingers together. "You're happy," she noted, loving how infectious Fleur's smile seemed to be. For the last week of term, the younger girl had been in such high spirits that Hermione couldn't help being affected by it. For once, she was actually excited to be on break.

She nodded. "I am." Grinning, she tilted her head and leaned in to kiss the other girl, letting their lips linger together for a moment before pulling back. "I can't not be. Get to spend Christmas break with my sister, my friends, and my girlfriend," she said, holding up a finger for each one. "And a proper family for once too."

Hermione smiled but said nothing, feeling tendrils of guilt tug painfully on her chest. Last year, she had spent her Christmas at Grimmauld Place with the Weasley's, Harry, and Sirius; she had been with a proper family, a family that she knew she was welcome in, on Christmas for the first time in years. And it had been absolutely lovely. However, she knew that Fleur was back at Hogwarts, waking up on that very same day to an empty dormitory, with a large pile of presents at the front of her bed, and no one to celebrate with.

"Hmm?" Still suffering her guilt-trip, she realized that Fleur had not stopped speaking and she had missed what was said.

The blonde smiled innocently. "Gabrielle says hi, and that she's excited to see you again," Fleur said, pointing to the roll of parchment sitting on her nightstand. "Letter from this morning."

Clearing her throat, Hermione nodded. "So that's who the letter was from?" She swallowed hard and tried to act nonchalant. "I thought Mrs. Weasley wrote you again." It was true enough. Errol had flown into the Great Hall and dropped a sealed roll of parchment onto Fleur's plate of chocolate chip pancakes; he was the family owl after all.

She shook her head. "Gabrielle hates birds and refuses to get an owl of her own. And you know," Fleur pushed her hands against Hermione's shoulders, urging her backwards, "you're going to have to get over this crush you have on her." Once the older girl was lying down, Fleur eased her legs apart slightly, and slid between them, resting her weight on her forearms.

"I don't have a crush on her," she lied, her breath hitching when the blonde slid between her thighs. "Fleur, Lavender's only in the bathroom." Glancing anxiously at the door, Hermione could hear the sound of water pounding the shower floor. Twenty minutes earlier, Lavender, who had only just finished her own packing, excused herself to go take a shower before she departed for McGonagall's office, where they were using the Floo Network to travel to their destinations that year.

"Mm, so what?" Her lips brushed against Hermione's jawline and she grinned when the other girl tilted her head to the side, offering more skin. "She takes ages to wash." A hot blast of air issued from the blonde's mouth, directly into Hermione's ear, and she shivered. "And I don't believe you." Sucking her earlobe into her mouth, Fleur bit down gently, pleased when the brunette let out a quiet gasp.

"What?" she asked, steadily losing coherency.

"You have a crush on her," she stated, glancing at the bathroom door when she heard the water shut off. Looking down, she realized that Hermione had not heard a thing, as her eyes were still closed and her lips parted. As beautiful a site as it was, Fleur couldn't help but shake with silent laughter. "I love how you always make me smile." Chuckling, Fleur lifted her right hand, tossed her blonde locks out of her face and moved so that she was lying on her back next to Hermione, instead of on top of her.

Her eyes snapped open and she frowned, not sure what to make of the younger girl's tone. "What?" she asked, sitting up and self-consciously running a hand through her hair.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened and a towel-clad Lavender stepped out, dripping water everywhere. She smiled at Fleur, ignored Hermione, and went to her bed to retrieve the clothes she had laid out for herself earlier.

Grimacing, Hermione ignored the dripping water mess and turned back to Fleur, who was smirking at her. "What?" she repeated.

The blonde snickered and rolled off the bed. She turned around and leaned towards the other girl, resting her weight on her palms against the mattress. "You're always so paranoid," she began, her eyes shining playfully, "but you didn't even hear the water shut off." Jerking her head in Lavender's direction, she laughed when Hermione's eyes dawned with comprehension.

Her face turned bright red when she realized what Fleur was talking about. "Oh, shut up," she said, lightly slapping the girl on her upper arm, before pushing at her stomach to get her to move. Biting her bottom lip, Fleur closed her eyes and allowed Hermione to ease her backwards. These were the kinds of innocent touches they could get away with in plain view of others.

"Lavender, I do hope you bear a little more shame when you're with Ron," Fleur said when she saw the other blonde unabashedly dressing in direct site of her and Hermione. By now, she was used to Lavender dressing and undressing in front of her, but she did love to tease her about it, especially now that she was dating Ron.

Disguising her snort of laughter with a cough, Hermione quickly kneeled on the floor and busied herself with locking Fleur's trunk, completely missing the dirty look Lavender threw at her.

"Of course I do," she stated, slipping a tank top on over her head. "I only change in front of you because I know you like to watch." Grinning mischievously, she pulled on her lilac sweater and eased the zipper up to just below her generously-sized breasts.

Glancing up and down Lavender's half-clothed body, Fleur's eyes lingered on her bare legs. "I certainly do." She bit her bottom lip in a seductive manner and continued to leer at the other girl's attractive body. In all honesty, the sight of Lavender's body, whether clothed or unclothed, did nothing for Fleur; she merely enjoyed their flirtatious banter.

Her head tilted to the side and her left eyebrow rose. "Don't tempt me, Fleur," she said seriously, shaking her head.

She scoffed. "Oh, please. I don't need to make you want me." With an enticing grin, she stepped forward. "You already do."

Opening her mouth to respond, Lavender choked back her words when Hermione jumped to her feet so fast that it seemed as though Fleur's trunk had electrocuted her. "We should get going now," she stated in a rather high pitched voice.

Immediately after hearing Hermione's tone, Fleur stupidly realized that it had been unwise to flirt with Lavender in front of her. However, she decided that, for the time being, she would play innocent, and apologize later when no one else was present. "But we're not scheduled to leave until half past nine, and that's not for," she glanced at her wristwatch, "another half hour."

"I told Ginny we'd meet her in the common room," she said in the same voice.

Frowning, she searched her memory of the past twenty-four hours, trying to figure out when the other girl had mentioned that to her. "You said no such th—"

Grasping Fleur's arm firmly, possibly even a little too tight by the way she winced, Hermione began to lead them out of the room. "Let's go," she whispered sharply. "Have a nice holiday, Lavender." Her tone was noticeably stiff and insincere.

"Bye, Lav." Fleur was about to wave but Hermione had already yanked her out the door.

Rolling her eyes when the door banged shut, Lavender reached for the jeans on her bed and pulled them on. Hermione Granger had never given her any reason to like her, which was possibly why she was so content to ignore the other girl's existence. It wasn't just that she was a bossy know-it-all that got Lavender's blood boiling; she was also possessive, cruel, and a hypocrite. If someone got in the way of something she wanted, she would viciously lash out, but then run away in tears when they had the courage to retaliate.

In all her years at Hogwarts, she never much cared for Hermione, and was disappointed when she and Fleur rekindled their friendship, for now Lavender rarely ever saw her when she was _not_ in Hermione's company. She wasn't too sure what their relationship was exactly. Every night, she would enter their dormitory and see one bed empty and the hangings securely closed on the other. At first, she thought nothing of it, as she and Parvati would occasionally do the same thing; however, it became a little suspicious when they hid themselves in one bed _every_ night. Lavender wasn't stupid; she had lived with them for the last five years, after all. Perhaps the younger blonde saw something in Hermione that she, herself, had failed to see.

Only when they were two floors below their dormitory did Fleur speak. "Look," she began, nursing her arm when the brunette finally relinquished her firm grip, "I'm sor—"

"Must you so blatantly flirt with other girls?" Hermione interrupted, sounding somewhat vicious. She glared at the younger girl as they momentarily stopped travelling down the stairs.

Reeling back, Fleur was now overcome with the urge to defend herself instead of apologize. "Lavender and I are always like that with each other," she declared truthfully. Not even over Matthew did Hermione sound so jealous, and at least it would have been justifiable with him. Getting upset over someone like Lavender Brown, a very good friend of Fleur's, was simply irrational.

"Oh…" It wasn't relief that sounded in her voice; it was sadness. She scowled. "Well, why don't you just go and date Lavender then?"

"Because she's with Ron," Fleur said lightly, and then clenched her eyes shut when she realized how that sounded. When she reopened them, Hermione was staring at her, looking extremely affronted. "I didn't mean—"

"Unbelievable," she whispered harshly. "Absolutely unbelievable!"

"Unbelievable? Hermione, you're being terribly _unreasonable_," the blonde accused. "Irrational even!"

Her brow raised in a dramatic gesture of incredulousness. "Am I?" She began to walk backwards down the stairs, maintaining balance by keeping a firm hold on the banister. "How would _you_ feel," her voice had taken on the same high pitched tone it had back in the dormitory, "if I began to flirt with other people right under your nose?" Spinning around, Hermione continued down the stairs without looking back.

"Hermione…Hermione, _wait!_" she hissed, glancing up the stairs to see if anyone had overheard. Though, she supposed that if the other girls heard a quarrel on the staircase, they would keep their dormitory doors securely shut, but at the same time, glue their ears to the doors to see if anything said merited good gossip.

A moment later, there was a soft slam of a door as Hermione exited the staircase a few floors below. "Damn it, Fleur," the blonde muttered to herself. "Fucking suck it up for once." Banging her forehead against the stone wall, she rested it there for a moment, feeling incredibly stupid. Hermione was right, as usual; Fleur would not be at all happy if she began to flirt with other people, Ron for example. It would drive her utterly insane if she was forced to watch even one spectacle like that. The Krum situation in fourth year was proof of that.

Sighing, she too continued down the stairs, realizing that she couldn't take back what she said. All she could do now was apologize profusely to her girlfriend and hope that she would forgive her for being so idiotic.

When she arrived in the common room moments later, Hermione was standing beside Harry, Ron, and Ginny by the portrait hole, appearing quite impassive, if not a little stiff. "Hey," she greeted the group dully, attempting to make eye contact with the brunette, whose gaze was glued to the floor. "Waiting for me?"

"For ages," Ron euphemized. "Where've you been?"

Shrugging, Fleur smiled weakly and said nothing. They left the common room and headed for McGonagall's office, where they would be using her fireplace to take the Floo Network to the Burrow. Despite her fight with Hermione, the edges of her chest still tugged with excitement for the upcoming break. Fleur had not seen Gabrielle since the Triwizard Tournament because she moved to England right at the beginning of that summer for a job at Gringotts. This was also the first Christmas they would spend together since she was five.

The longer they walked, the more Fleur let herself lag behind, as she did not want to bring her friends down with her sulking attitude. Even through her excitement for Christmas, her quarrel with Hermione was still the first thing on her mind. When she had fallen nearly ten paces behind, Ginny, who had realized her absence, detached herself from the group, and fell back to walk with her. Fleur knew that the other girl recognized her conflicting emotions…not as though it were a difficult task; she made no effort to hide what she was feeling at that moment, not particularly caring what people thought.

"What's wrong, Fleur?" she asked gently, touching the blonde's arm lightly. Immediately, Fleur glanced at the back of Hermione's head, and Ginny nodded in comprehension. "You and Hermione get into a fight?" The words never exactly left Hermione's mouth, but Ginny knew that she and Fleur were in a relationship. Finally gone was Hermione's awkwardness of acknowledging that fact and she sometimes even brought the subject up, though she never directly stated that she was in love with the blonde.

Breaking her gaze away from Hermione, she turned to Ginny and nodded. "I suppose that's what it was."

"What happened?"

Remembering that Ginny was unaware of her and Hermione's relationship, Fleur chose her next words carefully. "I realized that Hermione is just like any other girl on the planet." A moment passed. "She's completely mental."

Ginny laughed loudly. "Yeah, she is," she agreed, nodding her head. Fleur grinned.

From up ahead, Hermione glanced back when she heard Ginny's laughter. A dark scowl slid onto her face when she saw Fleur smiling at whatever the redhead had just said. Ignoring the burning jealousy in her chest, she increased her stride so fast that Harry and Ron struggled to keep up with her.

"What did you do that's got her in such a fit?" Ginny asked, noticing how the brunette sped off when she heard them laughing, and was not too sure what to make of it.

"I flirt a lot with Lavender," she stated simply, shrugging her left shoulder slightly, unsure of how the younger girl would interpret that information. She, too, quickened her stride, so as not to let Hermione fall completely out of sight.

Ginny's brow shot up. "Oh?" No wonder Hermione was upset; anyone would be. She wondered if Fleur was truly as clueless as she was making herself out to be, but upon one quick glance, Ginny could see that the blonde knew that Hermione's anger was completely justifiable. "You'll make up," she assured the forlorn girl. "You always do."

There was already a short queue waiting outside of McGonagall's office five minutes later when they arrived. Joining the trio at the back of the line, Fleur slipped in between Harry and Hermione, who tensed up and avoided looking at her, pretending to pay attention to Harry and Ron's conversation about Aurors.

"Hermione, I love you," she whispered into her ear, so as no one around would hear, "and _only_ you. Never anyone else." She made sure she established firm eye contact before she continued. "It has _always_ been you," she breathed out as quietly as possible.

It was barely audible, but Hermione heard, and her expression softened into a tentative smile as she gazed up at the blonde in silent forgiveness, happy that Fleur had figured out what she wanted to hear. It wasn't just jealousy that provoked Hermione's reaction; it was the insecurity that came with watching her girlfriend flirt with another girl. It wasn't very often she felt unsure of herself, but Fleur always seemed to have her ways of unintentionally making Hermione feel terrible (flaw).

Fleur knew it was reassurance that her girlfriend needed at this point; an indication that she was still in love with her. Simply saying it would not do the trick, she knew, but for the moment, that was the only thing she could do. Later, when they were alone, she would _show_ Hermione how she felt. Her behavior with Lavender had made the other girl nervous, Fleur could tell.

Ducking her head, the left side of the brunette's mouth twitched into a lopsided smile, which Fleur found adorable. "I know," she whispered so softly that the younger girl struggled to hear. "I just—"

"Hey, Fleur!"

Mouth closing, Hermione frowned when she saw who had just called the blonde's name. She glanced at Fleur, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise as Matthew approached them. For the first time in the years she had known him, Hermione realized that she had never seen him in muggle clothing before. Though she was reluctant to admit it, he was quite the handsome man, especially outside of his Hogwarts robes. A vivid, emerald green t-shirt was partially hidden under the leather jacket, which lay snuggly against his broad shoulders; a black leather belt, with a simple metal buckle, held his navy blue jeans in place on his waist; and black and white striped, muggle-brand tennis shoes were on his feet.

"Matt, hi." Fleur struggled to keep the shock out of her voice. This was the first time Matthew had said anything to her since their break up last month. When things had ended, the blonde boy kept his distance from her, never speaking to her, scarcely even looking at her. Ron had joked about it in the beginning, saying that Fleur could cause any sort of trouble she wanted and Matthew would never know (he stopped only when Hermione had thrown him a scathing look and said that teachers could still put her in detention).

"Can I, uh," he glanced at Hermione, who looked quite impassive now, though her eyes held a hint of subtle curiosity, "can have a word?" Shifting uncomfortably, he ignored the stares he was receiving from all of Fleur's friends, who had stopped mid-conversation to listen, and waited for her response.

Nodding slowly, she spared Hermione a quick look, and stepped out of the queue. "I'll see you guys at the Burrow," she said, waving slightly. Giving her girlfriend one last meaningful look, Fleur hoped she would not worry. When Hermione subtly jerked her head and smiled reassuringly, the blonde realized that it was okay, and she accompanied Matthew to the next corridor over, where the only signs of life were in the countless portraits lining the stone walls.

Leaning coolly against the walls, she crossed her arms and rested her weight on one leg, flipping back her hair and staring at the pacing boy. Matthew was obviously nervous, and for one fearful moment, Fleur thought that he was going to ask her for another chance at a relationship. She quickly threw away that notion, however, when she remembered that they would not be seeing each other for the next two weeks; if Matthew wanted to rekindle their relationship, he would have waited until after the break.

"What's up?" she asked after an uncomfortable minute of silence. From the next corridor over, she could hear sounds of chatter and laughter coming from the students waiting outside McGonagall's office, but that was the only thing she heard. Countless memories of all those awkward silences between them came rushing back to her mind; she had somewhat forgotten what her relationship with Matthew had been like, as she had not spent too much time thinking about it lately. With everything else going on in her life, schoolwork, Hermione, Christmas, Fleur rarely had a spare moment to think about other things; Matthew was one of them.

Running a hand through his thick hair, he stopped pacing and looked at her. There was a tugging sensation in the middle of Fleur's chest as she stared back at her ex-boyfriend. She had forgotten how attractive he was, especially in muggle clothing. His hair as well; Fleur had always adored Matthew's hair, and right now, he looked unbelievably handsome, with blonde locks falling onto the left side of his face, but smoothed back on the right.

"You're spending your break with the Weasley's?" he asked, his brown eyes shining in the bright torch light. Both he and Fleur looked out of place in the medieval style castle wearing modern muggle clothing.

"Yeah." She nodded. "My sister's getting married to Bill Weasley next summer," the younger girl added. "Mrs. Weasley thought it would be nice for me to spend Christmas with them instead of staying here."

"That's good," he said, continuously nodding his head. "I was worried that you would be stranded at Hogwarts again this year."

Her chest constricted painfully and she remembered one of the reasons she was so reluctant to break up with him: he was always so caring towards Fleur, always looking out for her and worrying about her wellbeing. She regretted that they hadn't managed to remain friends.

"Did your dad even bother to write you?" Matthew asked, sounding bitter.

Shaking her head, she stared at the ground with a hardened expression. "He did, at the beginning of the month." She patted the pocket of her jacket, her normally icy eyes now turning black in this lighting. "Never read it."

"Good," he said firmly. "That bastard deserves nothing from you."

Smiling fondly at Matthew's protective manner, Fleur said nothing. She was happy that she had chosen to confide the events of that last summer with the boy, for he had done nothing but comfort and support her when the memory of it all became too much to bear.

"_Good morning, Dad," Fleur greeted cheerfully when she entered the kitchen that morning and saw her father sitting at the counter eating a bowl of oatmeal and drinking his regular morning coffee. There was a thick piece of paper in his left hand, which he held up very close to his face._

"_Morning," he said absently, obviously absorbed in the letter's words._

_At age thirty four, Kieran Delacour was still an extremely good-looking man. He had the appearance of someone five years his junior, with light brown hair that extended into a series of long, carefully maintained spikes; striking grey-blue eyes, which he hid behind wire-framed glasses more often than not; a strong jaw line that made him look very intimidating; and the incredibly lean body of someone who spent just the right amount of time working out every week. Fleur was well aware that her father was a very attractive man, but she did not much like how often women swooned over him. Still, she had gotten used to the numerous girlfriends Kieran brought home, as she knew any relationship he had would not last longer than a month. _

_Placing two slices of bread in the toaster on the far side of their enormous kitchen, she leaned her back against the black marble counter and rested her elbows on its chilly surface, studying Kieran as he read. "Maybe you should put on your glasses," Fleur suggested, an amused smile tugging at her lips. Her father was useless without his glasses, and the proximity in which he held the paper to his face was comical._

"_I left them on my nightstand."_

"_Figures." She reached into the stainless-steel refrigerator beside the counter and pulled out the butter. Crossing the expanse of wooden floor, she opened the utensil drawer and retrieved a bread knife. Sighing quietly, Fleur realized that she missed the convenience of magic and food at Hogwarts. While sometimes it was nice to escape and remember that there was another world other than the one she lived in ten months of the year, the inconveniences of a muggle household were somewhat tedious and difficult to get used to, especially in her father's house, where every room was so big and everything was so spread out. Perhaps she was merely being lazy, but was it really necessary for her to feel as though she was performing a workout every time she fixed herself a meal?_

"_Gabrielle's getting married to some Bill Weasley," Kieran said, placing the sheet of paper down next to his morning bowl of oatmeal, where it folded back up into the original shape it came in, and looking at his daughter with sharp, grey eyes as she pulled her toast out of the toaster._

_Fleur, who was now slathering unhealthy amounts of butter on a slice of toasted bread, turned her head slightly, almost as though she was going to look at the older man but decided to quit halfway through. "Really? That's wonderful! I'm friends with Bill's brother and sister," she explained. Suddenly, the knife in her left hand became still as she pondered something. "Wait, she wrote you a letter?" she asked curiously, frowning at the white, wooden cabinets in front of her. It was rather odd that Gabrielle would write to Kieran, as she had loathed him all of her life._

_Kieran stared hard at the blonde's back for a moment. After taking a sip of coffee, he picked up the letter again and reread a certain line. "And you got drunk at that party you went to two nights ago." It was not a question. "Snogged a blond fellow named Matthew several times according to this letter." His voice began to take on a subtly a tone of subtle anger and he brandished the letter, flicking it with the backside of his index finger. _

"_Um…" Forgetting her breakfast, Fleur turned around and stared at her father as he stood up from the stool. He was a tall man with a height of more than six feet and she grew frightened whenever he was angry. The blonde had inherited her temper from him, she knew, and she had a terrible anger problem. However, when a six-foot-three man grew furious, it was much more intimidating than the temper of an average height, fifteen-year-old girl (her birthday was in exactly one week). His anger was not often directed at Fleur, but the few times she had upset him…there had always been terrible consequence. "Gabrielle wrote that to you?" she asked uncertainly, her voice wavering slightly. She could not fathom why her older sister would tell her father something like that and was about ready to kill her. _

_Two nights ago had been Lavender's party, and yes, she did kiss Matthew Vaughn…to tone it down a bit. In the letter she had written to Gabrielle the next afternoon, after the worst of her hangover had passed, she had simply stated that she kissed Matthew, when, in actuality, they had done a lot more. Fleur couldn't remember what happened exactly, but they had somehow ended up in Lavender's bedroom furiously making out. But _why_ would Gabrielle tell Kieran that? _

_Taking a few steps forward, he extended his arm, offering the letter to her. His expression was impassive. Frowning slightly, Fleur accepted the sheet of paper. The first thing that she noticed was that the letter was addressed to her. "You read my mail?" she asked furiously, looking up at him with disbelief. This was Gabrielle's response to the letter she had written her the day before._

"_There was a bloody owl pecking at the kitchen window when I came down for breakfast. Excuse me for not being familiar with your mailing customs." There was a hint of spite in his voice. Fleur opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off with a sharp jerk of his hand. "What the hell is wrong with you, Fleur?"_

_Her jaw dropped. "Me? What the hell is wrong with _me_?" She pointed at her chest for emphasis. "Damn it, Dad, what the hell is wrong with _you_? I told you _years_ ago that owls deliver the post in our world. You completely invaded my privacy!" Her face was red now, burning with fury, but also with humiliation; her father was _not _supposed to find out about her getting drunk or Matthew._

"_It's a good thing I did. I didn't know I raised my daughter to be some kind of slut!" he yelled, his fists shaking at his sides._

_Fleur looked as though she had been slapped. Never, in her entire life, had Kieran said something like that to her. Yes, he was often times horribly neglectful, but he had never been so cruel before as to call his daughter a 'slut.' "I hate to break it to you, _Dad,_ but you didn't really much raise me at all!" she whispered venomously._

_Laughing dryly, he stepped forward, so as he was standing only a foot away from the blonde. "Whose fault is that?" His tone could only be described as one of scorn._

"_What?"_

_He shoved his index finger against her chest. "Don't you dare blame me for never being there, when it's _you_ who's in school ten months of the year." His nostrils flared and he tightly clutched the countertop on either side of Fleur. _

"_You are so full of shit, Dad!" she exclaimed, shoving him away from her and retreating a few steps. "Yeah, I'm in school for ten months, but you barely even pay me the slightest bit of attention whenever I am actually home. Real mature of you to go blaming this on your fifteen-year-old daughter!"_

_His left eyebrow rose, much in the way that Fleur's did, and he grinded his jaw together. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but closed it at the last second. Instead, he studied her with piercing eyes, noting how red her face always seemed to grow whenever she was angry. "You're not to stay out any later than eight o'clock in the evening until you go to visit your mother next month," he stated quietly. "Your behavior was unacceptable; you are not of age, therefore you do _not _drink. What would have happened if this boy tried to get you into bed? The consequences of irresponsibility are sometimes phenomenal." He exhaled slowly and stared at the blonde, who still looked livid. _

"_Do you honestly think I would let that happen?" She glared at him at him. "Do you honestly think that of me?"_

_His eyes narrowed. "You don't get it, do you?" He ran his right hand through his uncombed hair before bringing it down swiftly. "Alcohol completely destroys any sense of judgment you have," he stressed. "You might think that you're under control, but you're _not_. And you leave yourself vulnerable to anyone who might want to take advantage of your temporary lack of control. It's not a matter of whether you would _let _that happen, because when you're drunk, you have absolutely no control over yourself."_

_Shaking her head, Fleur averted her gaze, staring at her uneaten toast on the counter instead. Kieran was winning the argument and she knew it. She knew it and she hated it. There was never a time when her father did _not_ win an argument. So rarely did he ever let his emotions influence his words that he had the wits to come up with the necessary counterpoints to win a fight. Fleur, unfortunately, had not inherited this same trait, and often times she lost arguments simply because her emotions blinded her judgment of language. Right now, she felt angry, and her father standing in front of her looking so calm and collected did nothing but irritate her even more. And she needed to lash out. _

_The blonde was very aware that she had an anger problem, but the only time she considered trying to change that was when she wasn't angry, when her emotions weren't bearing down on her like a dozen semi trucks. As of lately, strong emotion was incredibly easy to instigate out of her, so painfully sensitive she was to the world. Kieran did not know anything about her life or her reasons to drink. She had no doubt that if he was as heartbroken as her, he, too, would have drowned his sorrows in a bottle of firewhiskey. Every day was nothing but pain for her, and she had finally reached her breaking point. It infuriated her that Kieran would accuse her of being a "slut" when the only thing she was trying to do was erase some of the pain._

"_Is that why you don't drink?" Fleur whispered dangerously, her eyes now shining midnight blue as she glared hatefully at the older man. "Don't want to lose control of yourself? Don't want people screwing with you the same way you do with them?" Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head, feeling she was on a roll now. "Lack of control, huh? That how you get all your money? Swindle people out of their fortunes while they're too wasted to think straight?"_

_Kieran's eye twitched and his lips lifted into a wry smile. "It's funny that you mention the word 'straight,' Fleur." There was a tone in his voice that made the blonde feel incredibly nervous. Her heart thumped painfully against her left breast as all her anger instantly converted to fear. "You see, at the beginning of the letter," he pointed to the paper she clutched tightly in her hand, "Gabrielle mentions something of an attraction you have towards that friend of yours, Hermione." As usual, Kieran played his cards straight and managed to shine a light in the darkest caves of her mind. He always knew things he shouldn't…_

_Her whole body was incredibly tense as she stared at her father with wide eyes. With her mind as blank as a freshly washed whiteboard, Fleur was unable to formulate any kind of response. Instead, she merely looked at Kieran, terrified of what he was going to say next. To her surprise, he smirked, not seeming the least bit phased by the news of his daughter's sexuality._

"_I'm sorry things didn't work out between you and her." His sincerity was questionable, and the blonde kept her mouth closed. "I liked her. She was good for you; kept you level headed." There was half a moment's silence as he paused to lick his lips. "Kept you from acting like the selfish, little bitch you're being now." Malice slipped into his voice as he said this and he took a dangerous step forward, his lips now a pale, thin line._

_The counter, two feet behind her, prevented a further retreat. Fleur was scared now, yes; her father was acting frightening menacingly, but she was also furious that he would accuse of behaving in such a way. And anger always seemed to outdo fear. "You don't know what you're talking about," she whispered harshly, loathing the fact that he always knew why she acted the way she did._

_His head turned and he arched an eyebrow. "You think I'm so wrapped up in my work that I don't pay attention to what's going on with my own daughter?" he accused, much similar to the accusation Gabrielle made in her fourth year. "I notice things, Fleur. I notice a lot of things, and you want to know the one prominent difference I've seen from you this summer?" He paused, studying her face for any betrayal of curiosity. When she blinked, he continued. "You're angry; much more so than you were last year."_

"_People change."_

"_And you're changing for the worse. Whatever Hermione did to you, you need to get the hell over it. One day you're going to realize that the entire world doesn't revolve around you and what you're feeling," he finished. Kieran could sense Fleur's rising anger as her jaw dropped furiously._

"_What the hell do you know about what I'm feeling?" she fumed. It enraged her that the older man would be so quick to judge when he had no idea the kind of pain she was in._

"_A lot more than you think I do."_

_And there it was again; that urge to hurt her father, to say something so cruel that the only thing he could possibly do was display some form of emotion that would convince Fleur that he was, in fact, human. "I'm not entirely sure that you do, Dad." She wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to say yet, and struggled to find the right words. "You see, you're like Hermione in this situation and I'm like mum." His eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. Biting her lip, the blonde formulated her next words silently in her head. "Hermione told me she loved me, and then she fucked me over." It was an extension of the truth, she knew, but she was desperate to prove her point. "And you did the same thing to mum, didn't you? You claimed that you loved her, but fled at the first sign of trouble, successfully leaving her without a husband, without any money, and without one of her daughters. She loved you so fucking much, Dad." There was a flash of emotion in his eyes and Fleur stared at him intensely. "And all you did was ruin her life."_

_There was a terrible stinging sensation on her cheek the moment Kieran's strong hand collided with her face. The sheer force of the slap slammed her into the cold, stainless steel refrigerator. Fleur had no time to react before her father grabbed her arms and violently twisted her around, shoving her against the door. Crying out, she struggled against his firm grip and gasped when he yanked her forward and then slammed her back once again._

_There was a dangerous look in his eyes that Fleur had never seen before, and she was terrified. The way he glared at her, the animalistic fury that was etched deep in his grey eyes…she had gone too far. His grip was so tight on her arms that she knew it would bruise and tears blurred the edges of her vision as she stared wide-eyed at her father, utterly petrified. _

"_Don't you ever speak of that to me again!" he yelled savagely. Once again he pulled her forward and shoved her back, this time letting go of her. A fist came flying up, and Fleur clenched her eyes shut. No matter how much she braced herself for impact, she was unprepared when the powerful knuckles collided into her left cheekbone. Lifted right off her feet, she crashed to the ground with a painful _thump_, and slid a few feet against the wooden floor before smashing her skull into the bottom edge of a white cabinet. _

"_Fuck," she groaned in pain, bringing a hand to her head and gently touching the rapidly swelling spot. There was warm liquid pooling in her scalp, and her vision began to blur as black dots appeared everywhere. _

"_You never know when to leave things the fuck alone." Kieran's voice had lowered dramatically and he sounded terrifyingly dangerous. He towered over her, glaring ferociously down at his petrified daughter. For several moments, he did nothing but stare at her, watching as she struggled furiously to maintain consciousness. _

_With her entire body violently trembling, and her sight swimming more and more out of focus, Fleur was unable to stand and flee; she could not even crawl. Her fading consciousness was mingled with terror. She _had_ to stay awake; she _had_ to be able to defend herself. Where was her wand…?_

"_What the hell is wrong with you?" Her voice sounded faint and faraway. With tremendous effort, she managed to ease herself around the corner of the middle island, where she stopped, panting and bleeding, with her energy completely spent. With regret, she knew she had left her wand in her trunk upstairs; there was no magic allowed outside of school after all…_

_By the time Kieran rounded the corner of the island, Fleur had almost completely passed out. The last thing she saw was him bending down to strike her again. She couldn't even hear the terrible words he began shrieking hatefully at her._

"Have you told anyone else?" Matthew asked, shaking Fleur out of her reminiscing.

Smiling sadly, she shook her head. "Not yet. It's not like I see the man on a daily basis; no need to worry anyone."

"I'm worried."

She returned his gaze but said nothing.

"I just…" he moistened his lips before continuing. "I just needed to give myself some time to get over you before I approached you. You hurt me quite a bit, you see. No," he said, waving his hand to cut Fleur off when she tried to speak, "no; you did things the right way—you were honest with me, you told me how you felt; I don't blame you for anything."

Exhaling deeply, Fleur could not ignore the deep, burning guilt in her chest. Even though she had technically told him the truth, she didn't feel honest; she was a liar, a fake. Honest, yes; Fleur had told him she lost her feelings for him. But she was dishonest as well, sneaking around behind his back with Hermione. Thinking of her girlfriend, Fleur knew that whatever guilt she felt, it was worth it to be with her. That thought process, however, sometimes made her feel even worse.

"I just needed to make sure you were all right before we went on break," Matthew continued.

"Can we be friends when the break's over?" the blonde suddenly asked, looking up at him with sincere eyes. "I've missed you." Shrugging bashfully, she gave him a lopsided grin. Fleur missed him, yes, but she desperately felt like she needed to make things right, even though he was unaware of her wrong doings.

His lips twitched into warm smile and he nodded. "I'd like that." Shoving his hands into his pockets, he stared at Fleur's neck instead of her face. "I've missed you too," he admitted quietly. "You were always the one thing I could count on in this place."

Running a hand through her hair, she tilted her head against the wall, letting the back of her neck brush against its chilly surface. "I'm sorry I let you down," she apologized sincerely.

He shook his head. "Not your fault," he said firmly.

"Doesn't stop me from feeling like a horrible person."

"You shouldn't."

"But I do."

After gazing at her for a moment, he looked away and ran his hand through his hair once again. "I got you something for Christmas," he told her, changing the subject.

"You did?"

"Mm hmm. Should be arriving on Christmas day; I think you're going to like this one. Took me some time to get." Taking his hands out of his pockets, he began to walk away slowly, while still facing her.

"That makes me feel wonderful, you see; you got me something and I didn't bother to get you anything." Fleur remained leaning against the wall but she faced him as he slowly departed.

"Make it up to me when we get back. You give really amazing gifts I hear; a charmed ring for Hermione on her sixteenth birthday?" Shaking his head, he chuckled lightly, which was a very nice sound to hear. "Honesty, Fleur."

Laughing, Fleur smoothed some hair behind her ear. "Where are you going?" she asked, when she realized that he was heading in the opposite direction of McGonagall's office.

Now standing a good ten feet away, Matthew stopped moving and stood stationary, digging his hands back in his pocket (a habit he performed when he did not know what else to do with his hands). "I have to go and check all the house common rooms to make sure everyone goes to their head of house's office to floo to their homes," he explained.

Her eyebrows rose as she thought of tedious the task it might be to have to literally walk all over the castle to each of the common rooms. Fleur did not know exactly where the other ones were, but she knew they were very spread apart. "I'll see you later then." Offering him one last smile, the blonde moved away from the wall and began to walk to McGonagall's office, where, she knew, the queue to her fireplace would now mostly likely consist of the entire Gryffindor house.

"Hey, Fleur," Matthew called.

Turning around, she waited expectantly for him to speak. "Yes?"

He looked at her for a moment, his brown eyes glimmering in the orange torchlight. "Tell Hermione about your father," he stated seriously. "She's your best friend; she deserves to know."

With that, Matthew rounded the corner and was out of sight, leaving Fleur staring at the spot where he stood moments before. _Tell Hermione…_.Chewing on her tongue slightly, she realized that telling her girlfriend about her father's new abusive tendencies had been something she was holding off on doing. They were so new in their relationship that Fleur did not want to dump such a serious issue on it yet. It's not like it was such a pressing matter anyway; she would not be returning home until the summer, which left her plenty of time to tell the other girl. Still, Matthew was right: Hermione deserved to know. It was because they were in a relationship that she had a right to know this piece of information.

Chuckling dryly, Fleur continued her trek to McGonagall's office while wondering how her girlfriend would react when she told her. Not well, she was sure, which was why the blonde decided to wait until after Christmas to tell Hermione. No sense in ruining the holiday with what happened more than five months ago.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: This chapter is rated 'M' for sexual situations, just as a heads up.

* * *

Twenty minutes and one sickening, whirling Floo spiral later, Fleur shot out of the fireplace and skidded on her stomach a few feet into the Burrow's living room. Covered in debris and black soot, she struggled to her feet and immediately felt a wave of nausea hit her. Silently cursing the Floo Network, she glanced around the cozy living room and was unsurprised to see that only Mrs. Weasley awaited her arrival.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Weasley greeted warmly, standing up from the well-worn armchair across the room.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Fleur said, offering the older woman a smile while she tried to beat off the worst of the soot with her palms. "Where is everybody?" Pulling a hand away from trying to fix her hair, she grimaced when she saw it was covered in black dust.

"Let me do that," Mrs. Weasley kindly insisted. Pulling out her wand, she pointed it at Fleur, flicked her wrist slightly, and appeared satisfied when all of the debris disappeared. Before the blonde could offer her a thank you, she continued. "Everyone's upstairs unpacking. Your trunks arrived right before the others did. Here," a small vial zoomed into her hand and she handed it to Fleur, who accepted it, but was unsure what it was, "drink that; it's an anti-nausea potion. I remembered to brew some up for you this morning."

"Thanks," she responded, touched that Mrs. Weasley remembered that Floo travel tended to make her sick, and was grateful that she would not have to battle the terrible urge to throw up for the next hour. Swiftly opening the vial, Fleur allowed no second thought before she tipped her head back and swallowed the revolting liquid, which tasted like burning rubber. Gagging slightly, she held the back of her hand over her mouth and handed the bottle back to Mrs. Weasley. Immediately, she felt the nausea disappear, but the disgusting aftertaste remained, and she took to breathing through her mouth so as she would not have to smell or taste it.

"Is Gabrielle at work?" Fleur asked conversationally as the older woman led her into the kitchen.

She nodded, warily glancing at the clock propped behind the sink. Looking at the clock as well, the blonde's eyebrows rose in shock when she saw that the hand of every family member pointed at "Mortal Peril." She made no verbal note, however, feeling that this was not the time for her to state what Mrs. Weasley obviously already knew (why else would the clock be parked in such an unusual place?).

"They've got them all working so hard at the Ministry and Gringotts. It's been so hectic these past few months..." Fleur said nothing, assuming that she meant Mr. Weasley and Bill as well. "She'll be here in time for dinner though." There was no mention on whether the other two would be there as well.

"Thanks for inviting me to stay," she offered sincerely. "I really do appreciate it. Gets so lonely at the castle this time of year…dull as well." Her ears turned red, and she rubbed the back of her neck in an attempt to obscure the accompanying blush that came with revealing her personal feelings to a woman she hardly knew.

"You're very welcome, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling warmly. "We're pleased to have you, and Gabrielle is more than excited to see you."

Hooking a thumb in her left pocket of her jeans and slipping her right hand into the back pocket, Fleur leaned her weight onto her right leg. "I hope she's not driving you too insane," she said, a humorous smile lighting up her face. "I know how she can get…"

Mrs. Weasley visibly stiffened. "I surely have no idea what you're talking about," she said offhandedly, busying herself with cleaning the breakfast dishes so that she would not have to face the blonde. Fleur merely grinned at the back of her head. "Now go on up to Ginny's room and unpack. It's on the—"

"First-floor landing—I remember. Thanks!" she said one more time before travelling up the creaky staircase. The door to Ginny's bedroom was ajar, so Fleur stepped inside without knocking and saw, Ginny kneeling on the floor, transferring the clothes from her trunk into the open drawer beside her.

The room was exactly the way she remembered it: rather small, but extremely bright and clean. There was a new addition to the posters on the walls, which Ginny undoubtedly hung up after her acceptance onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team: Gwenog Jones flying through the air with the rest of the Holyhead Harpies not far behind. Grinning at the poster, Fleur realized that the captain of the all-witch Quidditch team was quite attractive.

"Where's Hermione gone?" she asked curiously after noticing the other girl was not in the room. She took a seat on the camp-bed closest to the wall and gazed at the back of Ginny's red head.

"Upstairs with Harry and Ron," she answered without turning around.

"Oh…" the blonde answered, not knowing how else to respond. While staring at the blinking face of one of the Weird Sisters, Fleur anxiously wondered if Hermione was avoiding her. They hadn't entirely made up before Matthew pulled her away to talk back at the castle. Maybe watching Fleur walk off with him put her in another angry mood. Sighing, she contemplated trudging up to Ron's room in order to apologize. Though she didn't technically do anything wrong, did she? She had simply gone off with Matthew, who politely asked for a word, to a more secluded corridor. Smoothing some hair behind her ear, Fleur realized that she didn't care that she did nothing wrong; she would apologize if it meant Hermione's anger and anxiety would be relaxed.

"Harry said there was something important he needed to talk about with them," Ginny offered when she heard Fleur's forlorn sigh. "He's been having all these private lessons with Dumbledore, you see; that's probably what he wanted to talk to them about." Closing her now empty trunk, she stood up and kicked it under the bed.

This did not make Fleur feel any better. Instead, she gazed worriedly at the wooden floor. Though Hermione never spoke of any of it, there was a lot more going on in her life than she was willing to say, and Fleur knew it was along the general lines of Harry, Dumbledore, and Voldemort. Hermione was always so skittish whenever she brought it up.

"_So what did Harry want to talk to you about after dinner?" Fleur asked coolly after Hermione pulled up a chair at their library table. _

_Noticeably stiffening, the brunette muttered a quick, "He needs help with his Charms essay," and dived into the bag at her feet to conceal her expression of guilt at so blatantly lying to her girlfriend. _

"_Was it about those meetings he keeps having with Dumbledore?" she pressed on, acting as though Hermione had not answered._

_Appearing over the top of the table, the other girl stared at her, surprised. "How do you know about those?" she wondered._

"_I overheard Dumbledore talking to Snape the other week—Hermione, why is Harry involving you with that?" It was a long time ago that she figured out Harry and Dumbledore's meetings were about Voldemort, and she could not help but feel resentful towards the boy for including Hermione in the going-ons. Hadn't the girl seen enough danger over the past several years with breaking the enchantments of the Sorcerer's Stone in their first year, getting petrified by the Basilisk in their second year, almost getting killed by the werewolf Lupin in their third year, and risking her life in the Department of Mysteries in their fifth year? _

"_Don't worry about it, Fleur," Hermione said vaguely. _

_Neville dropped into the chair across from Fleur and asked for Hermione's help on their charms essay, successfully cutting off the argument she had prepared on the tip of her tongue. _

Fleur had not brought the subject up since that day, as she scarcely saw Harry pull Hermione aside to talk privately after that. However, she could not escape the nagging feeling that the brunette was simply more careful to not let her see them off together after one of Harry's lengthy absences. Her foreboding was terrible and she felt as though something bad was going to happen. Maybe not soon, but eventually, and it would be Harry's, and partially Ron's, fault.

"Stop brooding and come and unpack your trunk," Ginny said. "Mum's even emptied out a drawer for you."

"Whose brooding?" she retorted, pulling herself up and crossing the room.

Half an hour later, Fleur and Ginny sat on Ginny's bed, with their backs against the wall and their legs extended in front of them, conversing avidly about new Chaser plays they planned to experiment with after lunch.

When Hermione walked in a minute later, she paused in mid-step to gaze curiously at the miniature replicas of Fleur, Ginny, and Demelza on broomsticks they were using to demonstrate these plays, and to return Fleur's pleased, greeting smile.

"Please tell me that isn't a stunt you're actually going to attempt, Fleur," Hermione said, interrupting their conversation and frowning at the blonde figurine flying upside down on the tiny Firebolt.

Fleur blinked. "All right," she said, and without skipping a beat, she continued on with what she was saying to Ginny. "Should I hit the Quaffle with the tail of my broom or grab it with my hand and toss it back up to Demelza?" Demonstrating both examples with the figurines, she gazed at Ginny and waited for her to finish calculating which play would be the best.

"Both, I think," she responded after another moment. Concentrating on the positioning of their replicas, she added, "Grab it and toss it back up, but while I'm circling around you guys, it might seem you threw it back up to Demelza." As she spoke, the models displayed exactly what she was saying, and Fleur memorized both Ginny and Demelza's exact position when she threw the miniscule Quaffle back up. "If you stay upside down, I can drop the Quaffle back down to you, and with the type of strength your Firebolt has, you can knock it right into the left hoop with the tail. Since you're upside down, chances are the Keeper won't realize that all positions are reversed."

"Brilliant!" Fleur muttered excitedly. "Harry will love this!"

"Fleur, no!"

They both looked up, startled, to see Hermione gazing anxiously at them. "What?" Fleur asked with her eyebrows high in surprise at her girlfriend's outburst.

"You'll fall off your broom flying upside down like that!"

"No, I won't."

Ginny nodded her head matter-of-factly. "Yeah, she's got incredible leg and stomach muscles; enough that she can fly upside down."

Fleur caught Hermione's eye and immediately knew that they were both thinking the same thing by the way the other girl blushed. With her face now a bright red, the brunette quickly went across the room and yanked open the empty drawer Mrs. Weasley had cleaned out in Ginny's dresser for her. It had been magically resized to fit all of their belongings, and Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket and muttered a spell that had all of her things instantly zooming into the drawer, where they fell into an organized fashion within moments.

Fleur and Ginny exchanged a look; both had spent a good ten minutes putting their things away. "Wish I thought to ask Hermione to do that for me," the blonde expressed at the same exact time Ginny said, "Wish I was seventeen." They looked at each other again and burst into laughter a moment later. Even Hermione chuckled as she closed the drawer, turned around, and leaned her weight back against the dresser.

Tilting her head back against the wall, Fleur took her time in slowly looking up and down Hermione's slim body. The brunette was very fit, even though she played no sport, with slender hips; a flat, but not muscular, stomach; nicely toned legs, courtesy of walking all about the enormous castle for classes every day; and generously sized breasts, which Fleur had discovered for the first time the night before.

_Perhaps it was a side effect of the excitement that came with the last day of term that had Fleur feeling in a very physical mood. Or maybe it was because the common room seemed uncharacteristically empty and boring without Harry and Ginny, who were both attending Professor Slughorn's party, to entertain her with jokes about Ron and Lavender making out in the corner of the common room, while Hermione ignored them and worked on her many essays. Either way, when Fleur returned from her visit to Hagrid's at half past eight, she immediately sought out Hermione, who was reading a book, as usual, on the couch directly in front of the fireplace, and dragged the startled girl upstairs to their empty dormitory, where Fleur practically tackled her onto her bed._

_In moments, they had the hangings to Hermione's four-poster closed and silenced (no matter her mood, she was always careful to exercise this precaution), and Fleur assisted the brunette in yanking off her black jumper and flinging it somewhere behind them. Next, she loosened Hermione's scarlet and gold tie, tugged it over her head, and threw it next to the sweater._

"_You're in a good mood," Hermione noted breathlessly, as the younger girl rapidly undid the top three buttons of her shirt and planted wet kisses on the newly exposed skin. She was perplexed by her girlfriend's immediate desire to retire to their dormitory, but, as Fleur's hands ran up and down her stocking-clad thighs beneath her skirt, she could produce no reason to complain. _

_Fleur detached her lips from the brunette's collarbone long enough to mutter one word: "Understatement." Sucking gently on Hermione's neck for a moment, and relishing briefly in the soft moan it procured, she continued trailing her lips towards the other girl's mouth. With one hand on Hermione's thigh and the other gripping her waist under her shirt, Fleur allowed her tongue to slide into her girlfriend's mouth before their lips even connected. _

_After several minutes of furiously making out, Hermione slowly began to ease Fleur's upright form backwards. Pausing long enough to struggle out of her jacket, the blonde continued moving down, still engaged in their hungry kiss. Only when she was lying comfortably against the pillows did Hermione break away and move to straddle her hips. Gazing up at the older girl's flushed neck and face, slightly swollen lips, and intense brown eyes, Fleur groaned quietly and her eyes fluttered shut as she felt a strong bolt of electricity shoot right between her legs._

_A week ago, when Hermione began to take a little more initiative in their heated make out sessions, Fleur had been amused by her sudden, new desire for dominance. It made sense though, didn't it? The brunette had the constant need to be in control of all situations she was placed in, so why should intimacy be any different? After a couple of days, however, Fleur's amusement quickly vanished and was replaced with a newer, more intense arousal whenever they began to make out. It bewildered her to realize that she _liked_ when Hermione took over control, as it had always been her to play the dominant, more experienced role when they were physical with one another._

"_I must say," Fleur began, her breath hitching when Hermione's hand slid beneath her shirt and began to trace the contours of her stomach muscles with her warm fingertips, "that I'm glad you decided to miss Slughorn's Christmas party."_

"_Mm hmm," Hermione absently agreed, far too busy concentrating on the feel of the blonde's stomach beneath her hands, and attempting to suppress her mounting arousal, for she had finally realized that the only barrier between Fleur and her virginity were two thin layers of cloth._

_A hint of a frown flashed across Hermione's face so fast that if Fleur had not been as perceptive as she was, she would have not noticed. "You okay?" Immediately, she propped herself on her elbows and gazed worriedly at the brunette._

_The frown returned and Hermione's lips pursed, appearing as though she wanted to ask Fleur a question, but was unsure if she really wanted to know the answer. _

"_What is it?"_

_The delicious pressure caused by the seam of Fleur's jeans as the blonde shifted her hips to get into a more comfortable position was almost enough to rid Hermione of all her reservations and succumb to the temptation of kissing the beautiful girl beneath her. Self-control prevailed, however, and the brunette decided right now would be the best time to ask the question she had avoided bringing up for the past month, especially with the abundant __amount of intimate time they spent together._

"_Are you a virgin, Fleur?" she asked uncertainly, staring at the blonde's neck, and wishing that they had thought to extinguish the lamps in their dormitory before climbing into bed so as Fleur would not see the blush creeping up her cheeks. _

_Since Fleur had spent countless nights in Matthew's private dormitory, Hermione was almost positive that her girlfriend was not a virgin. It was not something she preferred to contemplate often because every time she did, it sent a piercing pain through her heart. The mere thought that someone other than her had already taken the most precious thing Fleur had to offer sent her into the familiar feeling of terrible anguish at not being more adamant in pursuing the blonde. Which was why she had not yet questioned Fleur about it; she was utterly petrified of the answer. _

_Still, Hermione had to keep in mind that the past was the past and whatever the blonde's response might be, she had to remember that Fleur loved her, and whether she was a virgin or not did nothing to alter that. _

_Wondering what had prompted her girlfriend to suddenly ask that question, Fleur answered. "Well, yeah," she declared, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world._

"_Really?"_

_She immediately caught the shocked tone in Hermione's voice and wondered how long this had been plaguing her mind for. "Yeah," she drawled out, slowly nodding her head. "I was never in love with Matt."_

"_But I thought all the times you spent the night in his room…" She did not finish her sentence. _

_Fleur sat up further, propping herself up with her left hand and using her right to touch the other girl's waist. "Did you really think…? Hermione…" She was lost for words. Had she realized the brunette questioned the status of her virginity, Fleur would have told her long ago that she and Matthew had never been intimate like that with one another. However, she had simply assumed that Hermione already knew since she had mentioned countless times before that she did not believe in sex without love, and she had never been in love with Matthew. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. "I love _you_. Never anyone else, all right? I never even thought of having sex with Matt because I didn't love him. The only person I've ever dreamed of having my first time with was you. I decided that way back before I even told you I had feelings for you."_

_Hermione searched Fleur's eyes, noting the sincerity and truth behind her words as she spoke. Relief washed over her like a cleansing bath and she smiled happily. Her feelings of delight were even enough to dull the foolishness she felt for ever doubting the blonde._

_The younger smiled softly when Hermione's shoulders slumped in relief, pleased that she managed to make the other girl feel better. "I'm sorry I never mentioned it before," she apologized. "I thought you knew."_

_Still grinning happily, Hermione shrugged. "I should have asked."_

"_I should've told you."_

_Shaking her head, the brunette suddenly lunged forward, locking their lips together in a hungry kiss. Her veins were pumping with euphoria and adrenaline, and she was desperate for more intimate physical contact with the blonde. _

_Groaning in surprise, Fleur did not allow Hermione to push her back into the pillows this time, but remained upright, using both hands to touch every part of the brunette she could reach. "You're in a good mood," she mumbled against Hermione's lips._

_Chuckling, the brunette left a wet trail of kisses along Fleur's jaw line and whispered hotly in her ear. "Understatement." She licked the rim of the younger girl's ear and felt a bolt of desire shoot to her core at the moan it produced. Hermione always loved when her girlfriend made appreciative noises…._

"_Ungh—Hermione," Fleur groaned when the brunette began to suck on her neck. Tilting her head as far to the side as it would allow, she threw a hand behind her to steady herself. She placed the other hand on the small of Hermione's now sweating back. "Grind your hips." She exhaled sharply when the older girl sucked her bottom lip into her mouth._

"_Hmm?" Mashing their lips together into another messy kiss, Hermione felt Fleur push against her back._

"_Move your hips—it'll feel really good." Fleur, who was well aware of her girlfriend's lack of pants, could feel the heat from Hermione's core radiating onto her stomach. _

"_Um…" Hermione looked at her uncertainly._

"_Don't do anything you're not ready for," she said quickly, hoping the older girl would not think she was pressuring her. _

"_It's not that," she mumbled, leaning down and kissing Fleur somewhat roughly. It was quite clear that she did not want to stop. "I just…can we shut out the light first?" _

_Without giving it a second thought, Fleur groped for her wand and muttered a spell that instantly doused all the lamps, bathing the two girls in darkness. Her eyes had no time to adjust to the blackness before Hermione propelled her body forward and smashed their lips together once again, forcing her tongue into Fleur's mouth without invitation (not that she ever needed one), and kissing her with such hungry passion that Fleur shifted her hips uncomfortably, trying to relieve the building pressure. She clenched her eyes shut and opened her mouth, deepening the kiss, and once again pushing on the small of Hermione's back, urging her to move her hips. _

_Grappling Fleur's shoulders with both hands, Hermione began to grind against the seam of her jeans, using the blonde's guiding motions to develop a slow rhythm. She gasped when she felt the differences of grinding in a skirt as opposed to pants—the pleasure was much more obvious and intense. Unable to help herself, she began to thrust a little harder against Fleur's lap, desperate for more of the incredible feeling it caused. "Fleur," she moaned into the other girl's mouth, tightening her grip on her shoulders._

"_Go a little faster," she whispered into Hermione's ear, urging her hips to move at a quicker pace with the hand still on her back. There was nothing more exhilarating and erotic than watching her girlfriend gain sexual pleasure from her. Using her other hand, Fleur quickly wiped the sweat off her forehead, before throwing her palm back against the mattress behind her; she would fall backwards if she did not prop herself up._

"_Ungh," Hermione grunted, and followed Fleur's suggestion, bucking her hips at a slightly quicker pace. Under any other circumstances, she would have felt completely ridiculous moving against the blonde like that, but there was something so sexual about the moment that Hermione inexplicably enjoyed. Perhaps it was the fact that she could feel so good without them actually having sex, which she knew she was still not ready for. If clothes were still on, it was okay, but if clothing was removed, then she would feel uncomfortable. However, as she began to thrust her hips even faster, grinding hard backwards and forward against Fleur's lap, Hermione felt perfectly at ease when the younger girl moved her hand to tentatively cup her breast under her shirt. _

"_This okay?" Fleur asked. She wanted to make sure the brunette was comfortable with her touching her breast before she did anything else. She was shocked when she realized the size of her girlfriend's chest. Never had she thought Hermione's breasts were as large as they felt in her hand right now. Fleur, herself, had been gifted with a decently sized chest, but holding the older girl's at that moment, she realized that Hermione's breasts were slightly larger. _

_Still grinding, Hermione whimpered and nodded, blinding flinging her right hand behind her, catching Fleur's knee, to allow the blonde easier access under her shirt. Everything she felt right now was building up—the arousal, the pleasure, the heat, the intense tingling sensation Fleur's lips and tongue left on her neck as she kissed every inch of flushed, exposed skin. "God, Fleur," she groaned hoarsely. "Feels so good…" The blonde's hand was under her bra now and Hermione momentarily lost her hip rhythm when Fleur ran her thumb over her stiff nipple. "Fuck!" she hissed before she could stop herself. "No, don't stop!" she said quickly when she felt the younger girl still her hand at her outburst. "Please don't stop…" Finding herself a new rhythm, Hermione began to grind her hips faster and harder than before, feeling herself growing closer to the edge. _

_Fleur clenched her muscles, hoping to relieve some of the unbearable pressure between her legs at watching Hermione border an orgasm. She massaged her breast a little rougher than necessary in her aroused haze, and was pleased when the older girl whimpered in further pleasure instead of pain. Risking moving her other hand from behind her, Fleur pushed the offending collar further aside and sucked on the newly exposed skin of Hermione's collar bone and upper chest. So turned on she was, she could not help but be a little rough with the girl riding her lap, and she unintentionally bit down hard against her neck, but lapped her tongue against the marked skin in a soothing motion. _

_Hermione was beyond coherency and it was all she could do to not start screaming Fleur's name. It all felt so indescribably _good. _She was aware that her sexual feelings and desire turned her into a slightly different person, but at that point, she did not care, too lost in the wonderful feelings coursing through her body, not only from grinding against Fleur, but because it was _Fleur_ she was grinding against. There was nothing wrong with what they were doing, she knew: They were in love with one another and this was simply one way to express that love. _

_Pulling the blonde's lips away from kissing her collarbone, and ignoring the noise of protest she made, Hermione smashed their lips in a hungry kiss at the exact moment her climax took over. "Fleur!" she exhaled sharply into her mouth as she came. Still thrusting her hips, slower and gentler this time, Hermione rode out her orgasm, and only ceased all movement after the last of her spasms had passed. _

_Resting her damp forehead against the blonde's, Hermione smiled softly. "Wow," she stated quietly. After a moment, her euphoria began to take over and she found herself chuckling, amazed that she had actually just done that._

_Fleur, whose hands had found their way back to Hermione's waist, smiled uncertainly, unsure why her girlfriend was laughing. "What?" she asked self-consciously. Her insides still ached with desire, but watching the older girl climax had calmed her down somewhat._

_Shaking her head, Hermione stopped chucking and kissed her gently on the lips. "I love you," she said seriously._

_Fleur searched her eyes for a moment before responding. "I love you too." _

_The most intimate thing they had done was also the most sexual. Now that her desire had calmed down, Hermione was happy to realize that she did not regret it in the slightest. In fact, she looked forward to the next time they fell into each other's arms in passionate abandon, only she wanted Fleur to be the one receiving those amazing sensations. Hermione had the feeling that she would feel just as much joy and bliss giving her girlfriend pleasure as she did taking it. _

_She had enjoyed succumbing to her sexual desires for once, because, as difficult as many people would find it to believe, she did in fact have them. Just because she was more interested in school and books did not mean she was completely oblivious. Like any other teenage girl, Hermione was curious about sex and wondered what it would be like to make love with the person she was in love with for the first time. If it was anything like what they had just done, then she knew it would be amazing._

When Hermione caught her eye, she blushed and looked away. Fleur had a feeling that they had both just been thinking about the same thing. It seemed the tables had turned in their relationship: Hermione was now the most confident of the pair and more comfortable with her sexuality. Last night, it had not been the blonde's intention to have Hermione orgasm on her lap; she had not thought the brunette would let it get that far, would not be comfortable enough to let that happen. But she did, much to Fleur's dumbstruck surprise. It didn't occur to her until after they were cuddling on her bed and speaking a quiet conversation that their relationship had taken a whole new turn, a turn where Hermione had taken over the driver's seat and was now speeding off with Fleur following nervously, but very much willingly, behind.

"So, Fred and George are back for the holidays," Ginny said, more towards Fleur than to Hermione, who had skidded into Fred's feet when she rocketed out of the fireplace earlier.

"Are they?" Fleur asked happily, expelling thoughts of her and Hermione's somewhat sexual relationship from her mind and slipping back to where she was now, which was in the Burrow. She got along with the Weasley twins as well as she did with Ginny, much more appreciative of their practical humor than Hermione.

Nodding, Ginny was about to respond when Mrs. Weasley stepped into the room. Her eyes wandered around the room, drifting to stare at each girl for a split second before resting on Ginny, who immediately frowned.

"What?" she asked, sounding somewhat defensive and she crossing her arms over her chest.

"Come downstairs and help the boys with the sprouts," she responded curtly.

"But we're talking. Are Hermione and Fleur helping too?"

"Just you is it. There's not much more to do," she said rather stiffly. Mrs. Weasley's eyes flicked towards Fleur for half a moment, and the blonde caught the uneasiness in the older woman's tone and posture. Obviously she felt it would be rude to ask Fleur to help prepare lunch, as she was not a frequent guest in the Weasley household.

"Just let Ron and Harry finish then!" Ginny said indignantly.

"_Now_, Ginny!" the woman said firmly.

"I don't mind helping, Mrs. Weasley," Fleur offered politely. "Really, it's no trouble."

Shaking her head, Mrs. Weasley smiled graciously. "That's quite all right, dear. You and Hermione just stay up here and I'll send Ginny up to fetch you when lunch is ready."

The redhead glared daggers at the doorway as her mother left and grudgingly stood up to follow. "This is so ridiculous," Fleur heard her mutter furiously. "One wave of her wand and she'd have it done in a heartbeat." Pausing at the doorway, she turned around and grinned mischievously them, her irritated demeanor instantly gone. "Have fun, you two," she sang. With one foot out the door, she winked at Hermione and left.

Fleur's brow furrowed into an adorable look of sudden curiosity and she stared blankly at the door. It was only when Hermione moved and sat in Ginny's vacated spot that she turned and looked at the other girl. "She knows something," she stated, her voice riddled with suspicion. Upon seeing Hermione attempt to hide a guilty smile behind her hand, Fleur's eyes narrowed. "What does she know and how does she know it?"

Aware that she was caught, Hermione quickly recapped how Harry and Ginny had caught them kissing in the Hospital Wing last month after Fleur's Bludger injury. As she told the story, the frown on the blonde's face deepened so much that Hermione grew more and more nervous. When the story was finished, Fleur was scowling at her feet.

"Are you saying," she began slowly, her tone unreadable, "that Ginny and Harry have known about our relationship for nearly a month?"

Hermione nodded, looking anxious. "Yes," her voice shook.

Her scowl vanished and was replaced by a wide smile. "That's great!" she exclaimed happily. "Explains a lot. I _knew_ Ginny was hinting at something every time she asked me about you, just wasn't sure if you had said anything or if she figured it out on her own."

"Wait," said Hermione, bemused, "you're not upset?"

"Not really," she shook her head. "Just makes them two of three people that know, not including us."

"Wait—who else knows?" the brunette asked confused. Fleur had never mentioned that she told someone about their relationship before.

"I wrote Gabrielle the day after it happened."

Her jaw dropped. "_What? _Why?"

Rolling her eyes, Fleur intertwined their fingers and moved closer to the older girl. "Remember that panic attack I during the Yule Ball fourth year?"

Hermione nodded, waiting for the other girl to finish.

"Well, she figured out that it was about you, which was what she wanted to talk to me about the next d—"

"Your panic attack was about _me_?" she interrupted sharply, stunned by this new information.

There were the stomping noises of angry feet pounding up the stairs and they both looked towards the open door, startled, and wondered who was storming up. "I'll tell you about it later," Fleur quickly muttered just before an annoyed looking Ginny appeared. "Lunch ready then?" she asked brightly before the redhead had a chance to even open her mouth.

"_Yes_," Ginny fumed. "Mum says to wash your hands before you come down." Whirling around on one foot, she went back down the stairs, sounding more subdued with her stride that time (probably to avoid a verbal lashing from Mrs. Weasley, who would undoubtedly think she was being rude).

Fleur stared at the door for a moment before letting go of Hermione's hand and jumping off the bed. "I love watching other people get irritated at the tiniest of things for a change."

"Yeah, why's that?" Hermione, too, climbed off the bed and followed the blonde out the door.

"It makes me feel so much better about myself," was her answer.

Laughing, the older girl, playfully pushed Fleur down the last of the steps. "You're unbelievable, I hope you know."

* * *

After lunch, Fleur, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and the twins bundled up and grabbed their broomsticks to play a game of Quidditch outside in the yard. Fleur and Ginny practiced their new play and used Fred as their third Chaser to demonstrate its brilliance. During their first run-through, Fleur, indeed, fell off her broom after only three seconds of flying upside down. There was an explosion of snow as the blonde landed on her back in the fresh, white powder, and a chorus of "Are you okay?" from everyone in the air followed by roars of laughter as a smug-looking Hermione helped her up.

After Fleur was on her feet, she jabbed a finger (gently) into the other girl's chest. "Don't you say a word." Her tone was sharp, but her eyes twinkled with amusement. The blonde knew her mistake: she had not hooked her ankles together the correct way, therefore, she had fallen. It could easily be remedied.

With a complacent smile, Hermione simply shook her head and went back to the edge of the garden, where she was reading a book outside. A purple sphere of flames ignited from her wand once more and she sat on the ground, her face now bathed with violet light as she shivered contentedly in its offered warmth.

It was only when Ginny threw the enchanted snowball they were using as a Quaffle at the side of her head that Fleur tore her eyes away from her girlfriend, feeling momentarily stupefied. Shaking out of her thoughts, she grabbed the snowball, clambered back onto her broom, and kicked off hard into the air, soaring a good ten feet above the others.

The rest of the afternoon flew by quickly and the sun had nearly set when Mrs. Weasley poked her head outside the back door and requested they come inside. Fleur, who had caught the nervous tone in her voice, quickly descended to the ground, placed her Firebolt inside the broom shed, and trotted through the yard and into the kitchen where Hermione, who had drifted back into the house more than two hours ago, was setting the table for dinner.

After kicking off her shoes and shrugging out of her freezing wet coat (she had fallen off her broom several more times as the afternoon wore on), she and Ginny climbed upstairs to Ginny's room, where Ginny excused herself for a quick shower, and Fleur lazily changed into a dry pair of midnight blue sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, feeling exhausted.

By the time she returned to the kitchen, the table was completely set and Hermione was floating dishes of food onto the table from her position next to the sink. "There anything I can do?" Fleur offered with her gaze fixed on the hovering bowl of mashed potatoes. An audible rumble in her stomach told her that she was quite ready to eat.

"No, no, dear, it's quite all right. Hermione and I have everything under control," Mrs. Weasley said, her wand aimed at two floating jugs of pumpkin juice. "Where did everyone go? Supper's just about to start…"

"Ginny's in the shower," Fleur said, gesturing towards the stairs. "Dunno where everyone else went."

Settling in a chair at the middle of the table, the blonde gazed at Hermione, who was still placing dishes of food on the table with a silent hovering charm. Fleur's heart skipped a beat when the older girl flicked her eyes between her and the salad bowl she was now moving. Her lips eased into a tender smile, which Hermione returned the next time she glanced over.

A second later, Fred and George collapsed onto the two chairs surrounding Fleur. There was a momentary jangling sound as George fished around in his pocket and produced a small bag of gold. He dropped it on the table in front of Fleur, who tore her eyes away from Hermione when she felt the table shake as the bag collided with its surface. Bewildered, she stared at the sack, and then at George, who grinned. "What's this?" she asked, lifting it up with left hand and immediately let it fall back on the table like she had been burned: it weighed a _ton!_

"You're profit," Fred said in a matter-of-fact voice. "A hundred and eighty one galleons to be exact."

"Profit for what?" she asked bemused.

The twins exchanged a look, and Hermione, who had settled into the chair across from Fleur, finally finished with placing their dinner on the table, gave her a curious look, which she shrugged to in response.

"The twenty-four hour love potion you made for us, of course!"

"You get forty percent of the profit—says so in the contract we wrote—"

"And you signed—"

"The love potions are very popular, to say the least!"

Fleur's head swiveled back and forth between Fred and George as they spoke. When she realized they were done, she opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Hermione, who stared at her with a mixture of astonishment and amusement.

"_You_ invented that love potion?" she beamed.

The younger girl nodded. "Over the summer, yeah, around my birthday. I'm really good at potion making, remember? Even got an 'Outstanding' O.W.L. in Potions."

"That's very impressive, Fleur!" Hermione praised. The tips of Fleur's ears reddened. "Why did you create it?"

The question was asked nonchalantly, but Fleur immediately knew what her girlfriend was thinking. Unfortunately, she could not tell the older girl the real reason in front of the watching eyes of Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley, and now Ginny, who had indeed taken a quick shower.

After the incident with her father the past summer, Fleur had spent most of her days locked in her room when she knew Kieran was home. At first, she used her potions supplies to make healing ointments for her cuts and bruises, but after those had faded, she began to create other kinds of potions, mainly as a way to pass time. She began by experimenting with moderately dangerous poisons, something to defend herself against Kieran in case he lost control again. However, after the Weasley twins sent her a large box of their merchandise for her sixteenth birthday, Fleur came up with the idea of _making_ something for their shop. True, Hermione had been on her mind when she decided to make a love potion, but she had merely been the inspiration. Never had the blonde actually thought of using one on the other girl. If Hermione's love was not real (genuine), Fleur neither wanted it nor would take it. Twenty-four hour love (obsession) was not something she could handle without the promise of more.

"I got bored," she said casually. Glancing back and forth between the twins once again, Fleur continued. "Thanks, guys, I completely forgot about this." Her brain was whirling with plans of what she could do with this gold; those plans included renting a place to stay in the Wizarding world on July thirteenth, her seventeenth birthday. Tomorrow, she would talk to Fred and George about possibly inventing a few more products for their shop.

Carefully scooping up the bag of galleons with both hands, Fleur hurried upstairs to Ginny's room, passing by Harry and Ron, who were on their way down, and deposited the heavy sack beneath her camp bed. As she was slowly treading back down the stairs, she heard arguing in the kitchen.

"You're supposed to _knock_ first, not barge straight in! What if you were a Death Eater!" Mrs. Weasley shrilly exclaimed, sounding harried, as though she was performing a nightly routine. "I need to ask you your _question_ first! _Security measures!_"

"Fine then—ask me my question if you so insist," came the accented lilt of Gabrielle Deveaux.

With her heart thumping with excitement, Fleur jumped down the last three steps and practically ran into the kitchen, where Gabrielle stood, beautiful as ever, next to a harassed looking Mrs. Weasley. "Gabby!" the blonde happily exclaimed.

Gabrielle's expression of boredom instantly changed to delight when she saw Fleur appear from the stairwell. "Fleur!" she smiled brightly, and, pushing Mrs. Weasley out of the way, moved to embrace her younger sister. "The last year has been nothing but generous to you," she complimented after they let go of each other and she had a chance to study her.

Fleur, who was now taller than her older sister, could scarcely find any changes in her appearance. She was still as elegant and stunning as she had been a year and a half ago when they last parted. The only difference was she had retired her old Beauxbatons uniform and replaced it with dazzling, ruby red dress robes. "I can't say the same for you." She studied the older girl with a mock-frown on her face. "You've aged terribly."

"I have forgotten how kind you to be."

"The muggles will elect me a saint one day."

"Oh, I am sure."

Grinning at Gabrielle's exaggerated eye roll, Fleur took her hand and led her to the table, where Mrs. Weasley still appeared as though she were about to curse the older girl's head off. "Bonjour, Harry," she lilted, leaning down to kiss the seated boy on both cheeks.

Fleur kept her gaze firmly on Hermione while her sister separately greeted each of the Burrow's inhabitants, interested to see how she would act around the older blonde. The brunette, oblivious to her girlfriend's scrutiny, stared at Gabrielle with a wide-eyed intensity that left Fleur feeling amused and somewhat irritated.

"Hermione, it is wonderful to see you again!" Gabrielle, who had now reached the other side of the table, exclaimed.

"Gabrielle, hi," Hermione squeaked. Her eyes darted towards Fleur when the older blonde bent down and kissed her cheek. She noticeably stiffened when Gabrielle wrapped her slender arms around her torso in a warm embrace, and immediately regretted that she had stood up (curse her parents for teaching her manners). When she was released from the hug, she immediately dropped back into her seat, like she had been scolded for by her parents for a wrong-doing, and risked a glance at Fleur, who was staring at her with an arched eyebrow. Flustered, she groped for the jug of Pumpkin Juice and winced when she accidently knocked it over with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, her face turning as red as Gabrielle's robes.

An unconcerned Gabrielle reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand. "I'll get that for you." With one flick of her wand, the liquid soared back into the jug and, by itself, lifted to fill Hermione's goblet.

Looking extremely embarrassed, she took a trembling sip from her brimming goblet. "Thank you," she mumbled weakly, avoiding everyone's gaze. Her expression turned to horror when Gabrielle pulled the chair out next to her and sat down. "Don't you want to sit next to Fleur?" she asked feebly, helplessly glancing around the table to see every other seat now occupied.

"That is quite all right," Gabrielle said with an airy wave of her hand. "I wish to sit next to you." She smiled alluringly at Hermione. "I have missed our many conversations."

The sip of Pumpkin Juice Hermione had just drank came sputtering back up and she was momentarily caught in a violent fit of coughing so she could not respond.

"And _what_ do you two talk about that's worth missing over?" Fleur interrupted, glaring furiously between her girlfriend and sister. Hermione looked at her (still) red faced, but with guilt now as well, which did absolutely nothing to make her feel better.

"That, Fleur, should hold no interest to you," Gabrielle breezed. "And stop scowling—it does nothing to flatter your appearance."

"_Unbelievable!_" Fleur muttered under her breath when Gabrielle became occupied with serving herself a decent helping of everything on the table. When Hermione tried to catch her eye, she looked away pointedly, still glowering.

Ginny, who was sitting on the blonde's left, heard her and smirked, but said nothing as she helped herself to some mashed potatoes. After a few minutes had passed, she saw that Fleur still had not served herself any food, but was instead glaring holes into her empty plate as she listened to Gabrielle babble on and on about what had been going on at Gringotts over the past few months.

"Here, have some roast beef," Ginny said and began to pile food onto her friend's plate.

"I'm not hungry," she responded monotonously.

"'Course you are—we played four hours of Quidditch. And Mum'll be offended if you don't eat her cooking."

She grudgingly picked up her fork and realized that she was indeed quite hungry after her first bite of delicious mashed potatoes. After spending several minutes eating quietly, she glanced up again to see Gabrielle still talking about her work and Hermione still staring at her with breathless interest. Fleur's heart dropped. She thought she was okay with her girlfriend's crush on her sister; it amused her to a certain extent and she would tease the brunette about it from time to time. She hadn't realized the extremity of Hermione's crush, hadn't thought that she would transform into someone who was completely _not_ Hermione: an incoherent mess. In every situation and problem Hermione ever worked through, she had always managed to stay cool and level-headed. But not right now. Fleur barely recognized the girl in front of her. She had never seen Hermione act so senselessly before.

Sighing, Fleur dropped her gaze to her plate, missing the anxious glance Hermione threw at her half a second later. Ginny, who had silently been listening to the conversations around her while she ate, looked at the blonde with concern.

"You have very distinct sighs, you know." Her voice had dropped to a volume where only Fleur could hear. "And that was a sigh of something akin to mental torture…or emotional torture—either, or."

"Do I now?" Fleur snapped. She immediately regretted her tone when she saw Ginny frown. "Sorry, I just…" She glanced at Hermione, who was still staring mindlessly at the rambling Gabrielle. "_Look_ at her, Ginny, she's acting like a completely different person! When have you ever seen her act so...so... " She did not finish as she could find no words to describe Hermione's behavior that would not sound like an insult.

"Hermione's thing for your sister is hurting you then." It was not a question.

Fleur nodded, silently thrilled that Ginny knew about her and Hermione; it would make this whispered conversation seem extremely awkward if she did not know. "I know it's completely irrational for me to feel so…_jealous_—my sister is getting married to your brother after all—but this is really…yeah…" she finished lamely.

"If you know your jealousy is irrational, then why are you letting it get to you so much?"

She stared sadly at her girlfriend, who was giggly manically at something Gabrielle had just said, and appearing as though she had taken a large dose of Fleur's 24-Hour Love Potion. "I've known Hermione for more than five years…you see the way she's looking at Gabrielle right now?"

Ginny nodded, understanding where this was going and she felt terrible for the blonde.

"Have you ever seen her look at _me_ that way before?" Fleur swallowed hard and looked away from the sight in front of her. "Because I sure as hell haven't."

* * *

A/N: So I hope my Hermione/Gabrielle interaction didn't disappoint. I was sitting there writing it and I realized that as the kind of person Fleur is in this fic, she really would _not_ be okay with seeing Hermione act that way. No worries though--Hermione gets to redeem herself next chapter.

I decided to take their physical relationship a step further as well. I mean, there's only so much slow you can go when you sleep in the same room as your girlfriend. Hermione might have buckets of self-control but she, like most of the population, has sexual desires. So I decided to express that. And I thought it would be interesting to portray her as a somewhat sexual person. Still the same old Hermione, but with yet another layer peeled off the surface. Still...no sex yet. And not for a while, I'm afraid. Both of them value virginity to a high extent--they won't be quick to lose it.

Thanks for the reviews! Feedback is always wonderful--gives me the motivation to keep on writing this fic!


	12. Chapter 12

Dinner lasted for what felt like several hours, but in actuality, could not have been more than forty five minutes. Fleur found herself glancing at her watch every thirty seconds or so, desperate to leave the table. Watching Hermione behave with the obvious symptoms of a crush towards someone that wasn't her had left the blonde feeling in a terrible mood. She was shocked at how insecure her jealousy was making her feel this time around. Normally, it left her feeling unreasonably angry, but it wasn't anger she was feeling right then—it was insecurity, and Fleur realized that this was the first time since they began their relationship that she felt insecure over Hermione's actions. It had always been the other way around: Hermione was the one who would constantly grow unsure of herself and of Fleur's feelings for her over something stupid and meaningless the blonde did. Her flirting with Lavender Brown was simply one of several examples.

Fleur wouldn't call Hermione's way of interacting with Gabrielle "flirting" in its actual sense, but wasn't that exactly what the brunette had talked about that morning when she grew angry with her for flirting with Lavender?

"_How would _you_ feel if I began to flirt with other people right under your nose?"_

Jealous, insecure, and forsaken was the answer, which was exactly the way Hermione must have felt about Lavender. Acknowledging that it was entirely her fault her girlfriend had felt like that made Fleur feel even more terrible. But that still didn't justify the way Hermione was behaving now, and she was bitter that the other girl, as perceptive as she was, could not sense her displeasure. Was this her way of getting back at her for that morning? Watching as Hermione jumped to her feet the moment Mrs. Weasley asked for help cleaning the kitchen, Fleur somehow doubted it, which made her feel even worse. For whatever reason, the other girl had a serious crush on Gabrielle.

"Don't worry about a thing, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said, waving a hand to decline her help. "You helped me cook; the boys can help me clean up." The twins and Ron looked outraged, but Harry was already climbing lazily out of his seat to help.

"Really, Mrs. Weasley, I don't mind," she said desperately. Her eyes darted towards Fleur, who was unsure if it was _her_ she wanted to avoid or Gabrielle. When Hermione's eyes landed on the older of the blondes, who was blinking up at her and taking a sip of wine, she edged away slightly.

"Fleur, will you come to my room in an hour? I would like to speak with you." Now finished with her glass of wine, Gabrielle stood up and handed the empty goblet to Hermione, who took several hurried steps back as the blonde slid by.

"Yeah, sure. You're taking a shower I'm assuming?" Fleur would not allow herself to be upset with Gabrielle, for she had done nothing to encourage Hermione's crush. Mrs. Weasley had invited her to stay at the Burrow so they could spend time together after all; it would be a pointless waste of time to accuse the older girl of something that wasn't even her fault.

"A bath."

Fleur's nose scrunched up with distaste and she missed Hermione's soft smile. Ginny, on the other hand, had seen it, just like she had seen every single apologetic glance she had thrown at the blonde during dinner, but Fleur had not noticed because her gaze had remained fixed on her plate. The younger girl was nonplussed as to what was going on inside Hermione's head: if she was sorry that she was behaving like a smitten schoolgirl, then _why_ did she keep acting that way? Fleur had been right: Hermione was mental.

"The water remains clean, Fleur, this _is_ the Wizarding world."

"Actually, we've charmed our taps to do that," piped a rather complacent looking Mrs. Weasley, who was standing up to begin cleaning the kitchen.

Rolling her eyes, Gabrielle glided towards Fleur, who was still sitting at the table with Ginny, and bent down to speak softly in her ear. "There is a reason for everything," she riddled.

For a moment, Fleur had no idea what she was talking about, but then the older girl's eyes settled on Hermione, who was piling dishes next to the sink, by hand this time instead of using her wand. Fleur had a feeling it was so she could keep herself occupied until Gabrielle left.

"You'll become a philosopher yet," she muttered irritably. "_What_ is that supposed to mean?"

Gabrielle simply smiled, displaying a perfect row of straight white teeth, and stood up straight, sweeping her eyes across the room. "Listen and learn, little sister. I'll see you in an hour." With that, she swiftly moved to the stairs and was gone a moment later. There were no sounds of footsteps travelling upwards.

"She's just so loveable, isn't she?" Fleur said dryly.

"Entirely," Ginny yawned as she picked up her fork and twirled it in her fingertips, appearing quite bored. "You going to talk to Hermione then?"

Glancing over by the sink, Fleur caught the brunette staring miserably at her, and she felt a painful tug in the middle of her chest. "Yeah," she nodded, "better to get this sorted out now. I actually want to have nice holiday for once."

"Go use my room," Ginny offered. "For privacy, you know?"

"Loads of thanks, Gin." She smiled gratefully at her before catching Hermione's eye once more and jerking her head in the direction of the stairs. "Come on upstairs, Hermione, I need you to unshrink my pajama pants or it'll be my Quidditch figurine sleeping in them tonight."

Nodding nervously, the older girl abandoned the task of drying the plate in her hands and moved to follow Fleur up the stairs. Once they were inside Ginny's room, she closed the door, pulled out her wand, and muttered the consistently useful silencing charm.

"Hermione, what the hell happened down there?" Fleur swiftly began. She stared angrily at the other girl, who looked distressed.

Running a trembling hand through her hair, Hermione moved on shaky legs to sit on Ginny's bed, not trusting herself to stand. "I honestly don't know," she admitted quietly. "It felt like someone else had taken over my body and I just wasn't myself." She looked at Fleur with pleading eyes, desperately hoping the other girl would believe her.

Immediately, Fleur's glare softened and she exhaled an uncertain sigh. It was apparent that Hermione was telling the truth, her eyes screamed with sincerity after all, but the blonde wished her emotions wouldn't cave in so easily and forgive the other girl so quickly.

"You really hurt me, you know." Picking at the waistband of her sweatpants, Fleur wished that she put something with pockets on. She glanced up and saw a crestfallen Hermione. Her heart tugged.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, staring at the floor and playing with the golden ring, which had found its way to her left ring finger.

"I know." A pause. "You looked at her in a way you've never looked at me before." She decided to be perfectly honest about everything the other girl had done wrong. Maybe then it would never happen again.

"Well I could look at you that way…but do you honestly want me to stare at you with such mindless obsession?" Hermione's eyes twinkled and a playful smile tugged at her lips. "I think it might make me bothersome."

Eyes narrowing, Fleur's hands flew up to her hips. "Did you drink love potion?" she asked seriously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Fleur, I drank love potion for the exact purpose of falling in love with _Gabrielle_," she said sarcastically.

Scooting back so she could lean against the wall, she crossed her arms and stared at the blonde. For the first time since they had entered the room, Hermione noticed that they had not turned on any lights; Fleur's silvery hair was the brightest thing in the room, bathing her face with an almost angelic glow.

"Well, you said mindless obsession."

"That's what it felt like," Hermione responded truthfully.

Fleur sighed. An entire afternoon of playing Quidditch had exhausted her physically; an evening of watching Hermione and Gabrielle had drained her emotionally. Perhaps she would have thought more clearly during dinner if she had had the strength to contemplate the situation from Hermione's point of view at a more accurate standpoint. "Do you have a crush on her? Like for real?" Her girlfriend had made a point: mindless obsession could be okay, could be forgiven, but Fleur would erupt if she saw it grow more serious than that.

"Fleur, I've already told you that I don't."

"When?" Furiously racking through the memories of all the conversations they had had about Gabrielle those past few weeks (which was a surprisingly few amount), Fleur could not recall Hermione ever saying that, though, truthfully, she could not recall Hermione ever saying she had a crush on Gabrielle in the first place.

"This morning!" Smirking, Hermione decided to give the other girl a further refresher. "Remember you were climbing on top of me when you told me I needed to get over her?"

The blonde's brow furrowed as she remembered. "I thought you were denying it," she said simply.

"I thought I was too," Hermione admitted quietly, staring at the younger girl's neck. "But I had the whole afternoon to think about it…"

"Yeah? What'd you come up with?" Fleur asked curiously.

She took a deep breath. "I can't say that I never had a crush on her, because I did." When the blonde clenched her jaw and looked away, Hermione quickly continued. "But only because she looks exactly like you and I was missing you so much at the time. I've got you now though, don't I? So there's not any reason for me to like her. She's beautiful, yes, but she's just not you, and you're the one I'm in love with." She felt her trepidation loosen when Fleur smiled softly, comforted by her words. "I won't lie to you, Fleur, Gabrielle and I did get close over the summer. But that's because _you_ weren't there. She was just trying to help me move on is all it was."

It took tremendous effort but Fleur managed to eject all familiar feelings she felt from hearing yet another side effect caused by her not reading Hermione's letters over the summer. There was nothing she could do about it now. "So you're many conversations…?" she tailed off uncertainly.

Nodding her head firmly, Hermione beckoned the other girl to sit next to her on the bed. Fleur fidgeting in the middle of the room seemed awkward, like she had gone to a formal party but had forgotten to dress up. When the blonde was sitting comfortably beside her, she continued. "They were about you…at first. After a while we started to talk about the things in her life—Bill, the wedding, your mother. You have to understand that Gabrielle really doesn't have anyone here. You stopped returning her letters for a while," Fleur suddenly looked uneasy, "she worked much less than Bill and Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley loathes her for whatever reason. I've no idea what she did with herself when term started. It was just her and Mrs. Weasley most of the time…" A distant frown appeared on Hermione's face, as though she had just remembered a forgotten question. "Fleur, why did you stop writing her?"

"Didn't really have anything to say, I guess," Fleur said as casually as possible, focusing her eyes across the room and desperately praying Hermione would drop it.

Her eyebrows raised into a skeptical look. "Fleur, you _always_ have something to say."

Scratching her forehead, the blonde struggled to think of something to say, something that would sound believable. "I told you I had a boring summer." When she dared a glance at Hermione, Fleur saw she was giving her an examining look, most likely trying to read her body language and tone to reveal a lie…not that she was lying; her summer had been incredibly dull. She only stopped returning Gabrielle's letters in case her father felt an urge to read her mail again. Fleur could not let herself feel too much guilt however, as she had only ignored her sister's letters to protect herself from another violent attack.

Finding nothing but truth in her girlfriend's eyes, Hermione decided to let it go. However, she could not escape the feeling that there was something Fleur was not telling her. Perhaps she was merely being paranoid. "Do you feel better about the Gabrielle thing now?" she asked.

"You don't have a crush on her?"

"Not anymore. It went away after we started school, when I actually had you to focus on again." She took another deep breath. "I have no idea what happened down there tonight, I…" she trailed off, her brow furrowing so deeply that Fleur was visited with the comical image of the brunette right before their O.W.L. exams. "I…" She could almost hear Hermione's brain whirling, spitting image after image and word after word to the front of her mind. Smiling patiently, Fleur waited for the other girl to share what she was thinking. "Maybe Fred and George slipped love potion in my Pumpkin Juice after all," she said slowly and decisively.

Fleur's eyebrows rose dubiously, but she wouldn't put it passed them to do something like that. "I'll ask them about it tomorrow…but if they say yes, then I'm going to murder them both."

"Please don't, they were probably just doing it for a laugh." A deep frown still marred her beautiful features as she stared vacantly at the royal blue bedspread, thinking hard.

"Yeah, real funny that was."

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Hermione focused her attention back on the younger girl, who was glaring at the floor, clearly unable to find the humor in the situation. "Fleur, you have to remember that hardly anyone knows about us. I'm sure if Fred and George knew, they would never have done such a thing…assuming it was them who did it of course."

"Yeah, well, who else would it be?" She paused, waiting to see if Hermione would contradict her. "Ginny and Harry both know about us, Ron has his own crush on Gabrielle, and I think it's an _anti­_-love potion that Mrs. Weasley's looking for. And not for you."

"Good point," Hermione conceded, nodding her head.

It was quiet for the next couple of minutes as both girls mulled over their thoughts silently in their heads. Fleur did not know what Hermione was pondering over beside her and decided not to ask. She would tell her if she wanted to. Instead, she scooted closer to the girl until their arms were touching and then laced their fingers together, pleased that they managed to make up without any fighting. The left side of her body tingled from the contact and her lips twitched into a left-sided smile; she really enjoyed the physical effect from being close to Hermione.

Had Fred and George really slipped Hermione a love potion? It was highly unlikely, at least from what Fleur knew of them. They never much cared to play practical jokes on the uptight brunette, knowing full well how upset she would become.

What had happened to Hermione then? If there was no love potion involved and she claimed not to have a crush on Gabrielle…why had she acted so mindlessly? Mentally shrugging, Fleur selected not to think about it for the time being.

"So how much time is left before I have to go up?" she asked, jerking away slightly, startled, when Hermione violently twitched, apparently so lost in thought she had forgotten Fleur was there.

After a quick glance at her watch, Hermione was surprised to see that only ten minutes had passed since they left the kitchen. Time seemed like it had gone much faster than that. "A good while," she responded. "Why?"

Fleur smiled enticingly. "Want to make out?"

"Fleur!" Hermione exclaimed. She felt the tips of her ears heat up and was glad the other girl would not notice, due to the near pitch black of the room.

"What?"

"We're in Ginny's room!" she hissed, swinging her head to look at the door, as though she expected the entire Weasley household to come barging in.

"So what?" Fleur shrugged casually, clearly not caring where they were. "I'm just thinking ahead is all. How often are we going to find ourselves alone for an undisturbed hour in the next two weeks? I say we take advantage, Ginny's not going to come up here until I give her the sign we're done arguing, and I doubt she'll let anyone bother us." She smiled cheerfully, knowing that the other girl recognized a good point when she heard one.

Shaking her head disbelievingly, Hermione could not help but smile, feeling inexplicably fond of Fleur's straightforwardness at asking for what she wanted. "You're serious."

"'Course I am." The blonde nodded firmly. "If it comes to kissing you, when am I not serious?"

The older girl stared at her for a moment, before she burst into laughter. The indignant look that appeared on Fleur's face made her laugh even harder. "I love how you always make me smile," she smiled cheekily, squeezing the blonde's hand. "But if it's all right, I'd actually like to do some reading."

She blinked. "Sorry?"

Pointing to Ginny's dresser, she explained. "I checked some books out of the library yesterday and I've been meaning to read them."

"You want to read them _now_?" Fleur asked, gawking at her girlfriend as though wings had sprouted out of her ears.

"Yes."

"Well, no." With that, she tilted her head and pressed her lips against Hermione's. At a slow, soft rhythm, she rubbed their lips together, savoring the familiar taste of the brunette's mouth she had missed all day. She felt Hermione's cool palm touch gently against her cheek.

"No what?" she asked, pulling back slightly and gazing into those vibrant blue eyes she loved so much.

Leaning into the hand cupping her cheek, Fleur was overcome with tenderness towards the other girl. Maybe it was those beautiful brown eyes that swam with love and affection, but she found herself in an unusually caring and gentle mood. "I just want to be close to you," she whispered tenderly, completely bypassing any witty, Fleur-like remark she would have normally answered that kind of question with.

Hermione was slammed by the raw emotion in Fleur's loving gaze. Searching the blonde's eyes, she could see none of their usual joking humor, but only vulnerability and love. It was so unusual that Fleur said such romantic things that Hermione was not used to it. But she discovered that she liked it. It was just another side to the beautiful blonde that no one else but her was able to see.

Leaning forward, Hermione closed the distance between their lips. Just before they touched, she muttered, "I love you," and hoped the younger girl could hear the emotion in her voice.

"I love you too."

_Hermione already knew it was hopeless as she watched Pigwidgeon's tiny form disappear into the quiet night with the thick letter she had spent the last two hours writing and rewriting until her hand was sore. The chilly night air drifted in through the open window, but she hardly noticed as she gazed out into the dark yard. She was so used to the cold by now…_

_Fleur had been nothing but cold to her, icy and cruel, for the past two months. She hadn't even responded to Hermione's first letter two weeks ago, which had left the brunette in a state of panic. Did Fleur somehow not receive the letter? She found it hard to believe that the younger girl could read the letter and _not _respond; Hermione had poured her heart and soul onto that long scroll of parchment, described everything she had been feeling those past months and why, expressed her deepest thoughts and emotions…Fleur would have written back if she had read it. _

_Banging her head against the window frame and clutching its sill in a firm, nail-shattering grip, Hermione desperately clung to her last withering strand of hope that Fleur hadn't changed so much as to ignore her soul on paper. Which was why she had written the second letter, a replica of the first, or as close to it as possible; she could not recall word-for-word what she had written the first time as it had been so long. It didn't matter though—as long as Fleur read it was the important thing. _

_But did it really matter if the blonde read it? She had spent the last three months trying to hate Hermione…what if she succeeded? What if she really did hate her? _

_Heart aching, Hermione swiftly pulled the window shut and banged her forehead against the cold glass. Tears were threatening to fall once more. It seemed that all she did was cry these days: cry over regret, cry over heartbreak, cry over the love that could have and _should_ have been hers…she imagined the agony she was feeling now was akin to the Cruciatus curse. Hermione never thought she could hurt this badly. But here she was, completely lost and hating herself so much that she wanted to crawl out of her skin and die._

_It was her fault that Fleur hated her. It was her fault that Fleur didn't love her anymore. It was all her fault. The letter she had just sent off to travel halfway across England would do nothing to fix the problems she, herself, had created. If only she could have shoved aside her stupid reservations at being in a romantic relationship with her best friend and actually told Fleur that she really did like her. _

_Clenching her fists so tightly that her nails dug painfully into her palm, Hermione bitterly realized that she would have had to accept her feelings for what they were for her to tell Fleur that she returned them. It had taken her too long…_

"_Hermione?" said a quiet voice from behind her._

_Twitching violently in surprise, she spun around to face the person who stood in the doorway to Ginny's room. "Fleur?" Her heart thundered as the blonde figure stepped more into the room. Her features became more and more visible as she glided into the lamplight. "Oh…" Disappoint welled in her chest. "Hi, Gabrielle."_

"_My apologies," the blonde lilted, "I did not mean to startle you."_

"_It's fine," said Hermione, turning back to stare out the window. She saw several gnomes scurry away from a curious Crookshanks. _

_Gabrielle Deveaux was the slightly older version of Fleur; they looked so much alike that this was not the first time Hermione had mistaken her as her sister. It had happened three nights ago when she had arrived at the Burrow. Gabrielle's presence in the house served as nothing but a constant reminder of what she had lost._

"_Um, what's up?" Hermione asked, wondering why the older girl had decided to visit Ginny's bedroom, as she had never done so before, and trying to figure out a way to get her to leave without appearing rude._

_Gabrielle did not respond right away, but stared at the brunette with a somewhat intrusive expression, as though she were studying her, trying to figure something out. Only when Hermione shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze did the blonde soften her features to a warmer, but somewhat sorrowful, expression. _

"_Have you received any letters from Fleur lately?" Hermione asked abruptly. It occurred to her that if anyone was currently in contact with Fleur, it was Gabrielle. After the Triwizard Tournament, she wrote to her sister at least once a week. _

"_This afternoon, yes," she responded, reaching into the back pocket and smoothly pulling out a folded piece of parchment. Hermione's eyes widened slightly when she saw it; that parchment had been in Fleur's hands mere hours ago. "It was brief and vague, however."_

_Hermione said nothing, still staring at the letter by the other girl's side. She had caught the troubled tone in her accent though: Gabrielle was worried that something was wrong with her sister, as short letters were a rarity from Fleur. She always found something to ramble on about, which usually resulted in impossibly long letters. Hermione had always found it to be such an adorable habit._

"_You're in love with her," Gabrielle stated quietly._

_Hermione's head jerked up startled. Clearly the blonde had found what she had been searching for when she spent those moments studying her. "I'm sorry?" she asked._

"_You're in love with my sister." She did not look upset or fazed in the slightest. If anything, she looked remorseful._

_Sighing, Hermione moved and sat on the camp bed against the wall. There was no point in denying what Gabrielle obviously already knew, not that she even had the strength to. "That's what it's called, I suppose." She wanted the other girl to leave the room. Two minutes alone with her and she had already found personality similarities between her and her sister: blunt and perceptive._

_Opposite from leaving, Gabrielle moved across the room and sat an acceptable distance away from the brunette. Leaning her head against the wall, she turned to look at Hermione, who sat upright and stiff, with her hands formally clasped. "You have not told her, I presume?" _

_Hermione was unspeakably grateful that Gabrielle still possessed her French accent. Her English had improved, yes, but it was spoken with an obvious accent, so unlike Fleur's. "I've told her…in a letter a couple of weeks ago. She never responded." Glancing at Gabrielle, she saw that her eyes were the same exact shade and size as Fleur's and quickly looked away. _

_Gabrielle shook her head disappointedly. "Fleur…" she said, sounding somewhat angry. "I will never understand that girl."_

"_I thought I did," Hermione whispered, her voice cracking slightly. As she had not spoken of the blonde for the entire summer, it sent tendrils of fresh agony barreling into her chest at an overwhelming rate to by talking about her now, instead of keeping her thoughts and feelings inside her head, safe from the eyes and ears of others._

"Fleur, you are late," Gabrielle stated even while she was swinging open the door.

A breathless Fleur stepped inside, running her hands through her hair, attempting to smooth out the bed-head look. "Sorry, got distracted." Even though Percy's room was on the landing above Ginny's, she was still red faced and out of breath.

"Oh, I am sure." An amused smile twitched at the corners of Gabrielle's mouth as she watched her younger sister continue to straighten out her appearance. "I presume this means you and Hermione did not fight."

"Nope, there wasn't even one bit of yelling. Kind of surprising actually, normally there's one of us who loses it a bit…usually Hermione." Frowning, Fleur stared at a long scratch in the floorboard. She had given up trying to fix herself and instead tried not to think about the after effects of Hermione's hands and lips all over her upper body. Her stomach still tingled from where the brunette had spent a good five minutes with her lips and tongue.

"I can see that," Gabrielle agreed, nodding thoughtfully.

"Yeah…she thinks Fred and George might've slipped her some love potion." Still staring at the floor, she scratched the back of her head.

Gabrielle turned sharply, looking intensely at the younger girl, who had been startled by her sudden movement and was now looking at her curiously. "Do you believe that is the truth?" she asked slowly.

Fleur had caught the cautious tone in her sister's voice but was unsure how to read it. Shaking her head, she said, "I don't think they did it. They usually just leave Hermione alone, jokes like that would be more targeted at me. But Hermione believes it."

"Does she?" Doubt flashed so quickly in Gabrielle's eyes that when Fleur screwed her eyes to take a closer look, it was gone.

"Yeah," she drawled, staring quizzically at the other girl. "And thanks for telling me about how close you guys got this summer. Makes a girl feel special, you know."

Rolling her eyes, Gabrielle moved and sat on the rickety chair at the desk, crossing her legs and throwing Fleur a critical look. "She was heartbroken, Fleur, completely devastated at your obvious lack of caring. You cannot fault me for doing all I could to help."

"I don't," she said quickly, taking small step forward and raising a hand slightly, as though to emphasis her honesty. "I do appreciate it, really. I'm just bitter that I wasn't actually there when I could've been…like, _really_ bitter." Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the hollow feeling in her chest at recalling such a painful mistake.

"And jealous," Gabrielle stated bluntly.

"Well, yeah," Fleur said shortly, as though it was the most obvious thing. "But I try not to think about it. Hurts too much." Sitting on the edge of Percy's old bed, Fleur was surprised at how soft it felt. She had expected someone like Percy to sleep on a hard mattress…maybe it was his harsh personality that gave her the impression. In her opinion, he should have been sorted into Slytherin.

"Good plan." After studying the younger blonde for a few moments, Gabrielle smiled. "You're happy," she observed, appearing satisfied.

Nodding, Fleur gazed at the wall the in bare wall in front of her. "I am." Taking a deep breath, she held the air in her lungs and then exhaled slowly. "I just never thought I would end up here, I never thought Hermione would fall in love with me…actually, I'm still finding that hard to believe. We've been going with each other for over a month and it still hasn't quite sunk in." Chuckling quietly to herself, Fleur looked at the older blonde with blissful amusement.

"She's always loved you, Fleur." Allowing herself a satisfied grin, Gabrielle felt pleased at her sister's happiness, and wanted to supply her with more to smile about. She would need it soon…especially when the truth was revealed. Christmas was eight days away…Fleur's world would fall apart in only eight days. Feeling a horrendous sense of dread, Gabrielle kept her face straight so as Fleur's perceptive eyes and mind would notice nothing.

"I know, but she hasn't always been _in_ love with me," Fleur stressed, oblivious to any turmoil the older girl was feeling.

An old memory popped so vividly into Gabrielle's mind that she could almost feel the warm summer breeze gently caressing her cheeks.

"_I think I've always been in love with her," Hermione said, almost shyly, as she fiddled with the sapphire studded ring on her middle finger._

_Gabrielle did not open her eyes, but remained peacefully still from her position on the blanket they had laid out in the Burrow's yard, completely unsurprised by the brunette's realization. She smiled softly though, aware that Hermione, who had chosen to remain sitting upright, was watching her carefully for a response. _

"_Is that so?" Gabrielle asked, curious to hear her reasoning._

_Though she could not see, she was sure that Hermione was nodding. "Yeah…I mean, I don't think I was in love with her when we were first years or anything, but the personality was always there, most of the traits she has now, she had then." Pausing for a moment, she struggled to find the right words to describe her thoughts. "I'm not saying she hasn't changed since then, she's changed quite a bit actually, but there are just some things…they're the root of Fleur, the foundation for the person she is."_

_The breeze was warm against her face, and Gabrielle felt herself growing drowsy from the comfortable temperature and lying on a blanket in the soft grass. "Like what?" she questioned, opening her eyes now, afraid that she might fall asleep while the other girl confided her feelings and thoughts. _

_After searching her memory for the perfect answer, Hermione said, "Her protectiveness over me." Smiling fondly, she smoothed the creases in her pants and stared at the blanket in front of her. "There was one time in second year, Draco Malfoy called me a 'Mudblood' and Fleur threw a fit. Where she even knew what that meant, I have no idea, but she pulled out her wand and cursed him so he threw up slugs for the entire day after. Professor Snape gave her an entire week of detention for it…"_

_Gabrielle chuckled, her throaty tone resonating like a beautiful song. "Sounds like something she would do."_

"_And before last year, she never failed to let me down," Hermione continued as though she had not heard the other girl. "Even when I was completely horrible to her, she would just smile and brush it off like it was nothing. I think she's the only one who can handle my mood swings." _

_From across the yard, she spotted Harry, Ron, and Ginny come outside with their brooms over their shoulders. "Fleur was always such an amazing person. Year after year, she stood by my side, comforted me when I needed it, made me smile, made me laugh, completely infuriated me when I was trying to study, but only because she thought I needed to relax a bit."_

_Ginny was coming towards them now, carrying an extra broom for Hermione._

"_To be perfectly honest, I've always had a bit of a crush on her," Hermione said, feeling a bite of irritation that they always expected her to play Quidditch when they needed a fourth player, and then remembering that she had promised at breakfast to join them. "Not that I knew what it was though. I always thought my feelings for Viktor was what a crush felt like—that kind of nervous tingling in your stomach—but Fleur always made me feel so much more…I didn't feel nervous around her, but I felt so warm and happy, and I loved to touch her, whether it was a hug, kiss on the cheek, or even just brushing shoulders as we walked to class…"_

_Hearing the tender affection in the brunette's voice made Gabrielle smile. Fleur had finally found someone to love her unconditionally. Her only hope now was that her younger sister would suck up her pride and listen to reason. There was no doubt that Fleur still loved Hermione; if she wanted to hide behind some Matthew Vaughn for the time being, then so be it. Once school began again, she would realize she was still in love with her brunette counterpart…there was no question about it. _

"_I would not doubt your inability to fall in love at a young age," Gabrielle lilted. "I believe you and Fleur are meant to be together." _

_Hermione struggled to her feet, looking pleasantly surprised by the blonde's words. She said no more, however, as Ginny had reached them. After muttering a quick goodbye, she departed with the jubilant redhead. _

"_Fate decided my sister's path the very moment she was conceived," Gabrielle whispered to herself, watching as four brooms kicked off from the ground. She followed the head of wavy, brown hair fly awkwardly through the air. "And you, Hermione Granger, were chosen to walk that path with her." _

_There was, in Gabrielle's opinion, no better candidate. _

"I would not be so sure about that, Fleur," Gabrielle said decidedly. Resting her arms against the back of the chair, she laid her chin on her hands and watched as the younger blonde frowned, puzzled.

"Er…yeah, I can be pretty sure." Grinning, she slapped her palm against her right index finger. "Because if technicalities factor in, I doubt Hermione was in love with me back when we were both four-foot-six." The mental image of a twelve-year-old Hermione gazing mindlessly at her, like she had at Gabrielle during dinner, made her laugh.

Shrugging both shoulders and eyebrows, Gabrielle gave a defeated smile. If only Fleur would _listen_ to the words she said; she might notice the subtle hints she was trying to give her, the hints that would put together what Gabrielle was forbidden to outright tell her. If she was correct, Hermione already had some idea what was happening and was downstairs, at that exact moment, pouring over the books that would give her the answer.

When Fleur mentioned a love potion earlier, she had wanted to laugh. Gabrielle was positive Hermione knew it was no such thing. But when she discovered the secret, would she tell Fleur? If so, she needed to find some way to stop her. This was something Fleur needed to figure out on her own or from the words of its creator next Sunday.

They spent the next couple of hours talking about anything that came to mind. While Gabrielle spoke of her work and Bill, Fleur mainly stayed on the topic of Hogwarts, uneager to visit the subject of her inability to pick up a quill the past summer.

It was only after the Yule Ball that the girls grew close, for Gabrielle had always given the impression she was not very fond of her younger sister before then, and their relationship continued for the next year and half through letters. Fleur realized that this was the first time her and Gabrielle had really talked before, talked about things more than Hermione that is. And she found she enjoyed it immensely. She enjoyed having an actual sister for once.

It was late when Fleur drifted back down to Ginny's room. Gabrielle insisted they both go to bed, as tomorrow was her day off and Mrs. Weasley tended to wake them at an almost cruel hour of the morning. Not thrilled by thought of an early start while on break, Fleur reluctantly left, but not before making plans with Gabrielle to take a walk to the nearby village the next day.

When she arrived at Ginny's room, she found the redhead inclined against a pile of pillows, scribbling on a roll of parchment. Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the floor, using her camp bed as a desk for the half dozen open books she was perusing through.

Ginny, who had looked up when Fleur entered, noticed her bewildered expression as she stared with raised eyebrows at Hermione's bed. "She's been like this for the past two hours," she told her, gesturing at the brunette. "Won't say a word what she's researching though…"

Chuckling, amused, Fleur bent down to get a closer look at the books her girlfriend was so engrossed in, but the second she began to glance over the illustrations, Hermione swiftly raised her wand. The books flew shut and immediately zoomed back into the open drawer before she even had a chance to read a title.

Jumping to her feet, Hermione stared at her with the bleary-eyed look of someone who had spent an excessive amount of time reading miniscule print in inadequate lighting. "Well, I'm done reading for the night," she said in a rather high pitched voice, which caused Fleur to frown and gaze suspiciously at Hermione's drawer. "Think I'll go to bed now. You lot should do the same," she added, giving both Fleur and Ginny a pointed look.

"I need to finish Dean's letter first," Ginny said, returning her attention back to the parchment in her lap.

"You look awful, Hermione," Fleur said, not without some humor, as the brunette dug through her drawer for her pajamas. "It's not unhealthy to take a break every once in a while, you know. You would look less like an Azkaban prisoner."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stood up and threw a set of pajamas at the taller girl. "Blunt as ever, Fleur." She allowed herself a tired smile to show the other girl she wasn't offended by her teasing. "And I forgot that I actually did shrink your pajamas."

"Good thing I reminded you then," said Fleur, unabashedly pulling down her sweatpants. She offered Hermione no time for a closer look, however, for she immediately slid into her pajama bottoms. Shrugging out of shirt, she had the decency to turn around as she removed her bra, and yanked the t-shirt over her head. Spotting a sweatshirt on her camp bed, she also pulled that on.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Hermione announced, clearly not as comfortable as Fleur to change in the bedroom.

With her pajamas in hand, she made her way to the door but was stopped by Fleur, who had grabbed her arm. Soft lips pressed against hers, lingered for a moment and then pulled back. Pleasantly surprised, Hermione hardly noticed as the blonde ushered her out of the room.

Ginny smirked at the giddy looking Fleur while she closed the door. "She told you, didn't she, that I knew?"

Turning around, the blonde offered her a lopsided smile before climbing into her camp bed against the wall. "Yeah, she told me." Staring up at the ceiling, Fleur was incredibly at ease and happy for the first time in so long. Not even thoughts of her father or of Hermione's involvement with Harry and Dumbledore's meetings could bring her mood down.

* * *

There was a sharp knock on Gabrielle's door. She glanced up from the book she was reading on the bed and wondered who was outside her door at such a late hour. It could not have been Bill, who had just been in to say a quick good night before retiring to his room on the landing above. Did Fleur perhaps need to talk about something else, something she had forgotten to bring up earlier?

"Come in," she called, pushing off the covers and moving to sit at the edge of the bed.

The door creaked open and a pajama clad Hermione slipped inside, carrying her daytime clothes in her left arm. Closing the door, she turned and faced Gabrielle, just as the blonde was trying to wipe the look of surprise off her face.

"I did not think you would figure it out so soon," Gabrielle said warily, running a hand through her platinum hair.

Stepping further into the room, Hermione knew she had been correct with her theory: she felt no mindless obsession in the presence of the older girl, did not even feel a single symptom for a crush. With a sigh, she realized she had to accept the truth as it was…she had so dearly hoped she would have been wrong. "You weren't trying to help me get over Fleur this summer, were you," Hermione asked in a low voice.

Gabrielle shook her head guiltily. "You are correct," she confirmed.

"You wanted me to stay in love with her."

"I was simply attempting to reduce the agony you felt," she responded, observing the countless emotions flash across Hermione's eyes as she stared a hole in the floor.

Hermione felt weak, tired from all the reading she had done, but even more exhausted by what she had unearthed. Fleur, the girl she loved, the girl who was climbing into bed right below them, was completely oblivious to the truth that had been hidden from her since birth. Hermione knew that something was wrong with her the moment Fleur stepped into the kitchen after Gabrielle arrived. The mindlessness, the obsession, it only occurred when the sisters were in the same room with one another. Hermione hoped that she had thrown Fleur off with her fake love potion theory.

"Fleur doesn't know, does she?" Hermione already knew the answer.

Gabrielle shook her head. "She does not…if all goes as planned, she will find out on Christmas day."

Her jaw dropped and she stared angrily at the older girl. "_This_ Christmas? The one only eight days away?" She did not wait for Gabrielle to respond. "Fleur's been so excited about this Christmas for weeks, and you're going to ruin it by telling her—"

"By telling her what she needs to know!" Gabrielle interrupted, jumping on her feet and advancing slowly on the other girl.

Clenching her fists, Hermione was visited with the desire to kick the blonde. How she could have kept this secret for so long, she did not know. But this would completely devastate Fleur, and to tell her on Christmas day…Would it be Gabrielle who told her? Would it be Gabrielle who told Fleur she had been misled her entire life?

"Well, if she needs to know," taking slow steps backward, Hermione closed the distance between herself and the door, "then I'll just hop on downstairs and tell her. Might as well ruin her holiday from the start."

"No!" Gabrielle lunged forward and grasped the brunette's arm. "You can't tell her!"

"Why the fuck not!" Hermione hissed, jerking her arm out of the other girl's reach and backing herself into the door.

"She either has to figure it out on her own or from the words of its creator," Gabrielle whispered, massaging her right temple with her nimble fingers. "I've tried to give her hints, but she hasn't caught on."

Hermione glared at her with disbelief. "Of course she hasn't caught on!" Flinging her hands in the air in frustration, she began to pace furiously around the room. "She's always been told she was muggleborn, your damn mother has always claimed to be muggleborn! Why should Fleur suspect otherwise?"

Shrugging helplessly, Gabrielle dropped down onto the bed. She said nothing.

"But that's the truth of the matter, that's the truth you and your Squib mother neglected to ever mention to Fleur." Hermione stopped pacing and gave the blonde a scathing look. "I won't tell her," she decided, nodding her head slowly. "But believe me when I say I am _not_ doing this because you told me to…" She grinded her jaw in a vain attempt to release some of the raging fury she felt. "I'm doing this for Fleur…it's _you_ she deserves to hear the truth from, not me. You and whoever this 'creator' is can bear the burden of telling her that it was Kieran discovering you mother's heritage that ruined their marriage." Her eyes glowed dangerously. "Fleur began to show signs of magical power when she was six, didn't she? Right around the time your parents got a divorce, am I right?"

Gabrielle's stared sadly at her feet. Her silence was answer enough.

"She'll never forgive you, you know," Hermione said quietly, gazing at other girl, who winced at those words. "She'll never forgive you for not telling her about her heritage." Swallowing hard, she tried not to feel sympathy for the miserable looking girl in front of her. "Your mother may be a Squib, but that still makes Fleur a half-blood. That news won't matter though, will it? Not after she hears the next part…" Closing her eyes, Hermione wanted nothing more than to be downstairs with her blissfully ignorant girlfriend and forget she had ever found this out. "I think the news that she's not fully human might upset her the most."

"Hermione…" Gabrielle began weakly.

Holding up a hand, the brunette cut her off. "Just do me a favor, Gabrielle," she said, her voice softening slightly.

"Anything."

"Can you…" Hermione took a deep breath. "Just make sure that she knows there's nothing wrong with her…that there is absolutely nothing wrong with being half Veela."

Gabrielle's jaw clenched, but she nodded. Looking up, she saw traces of tears in Hermione's eyes, and she knew the other girl was only looking out for Fleur, and that her fury was only sparked because of deceit. "I can do that," she promised. "I am, after all, half Veela as well."

* * *

A/N: I know I've continuously said that Fleur was muggleborn, but I've been planning this twist for a while now, I think since Chapter Six. Everything will be explained in the next chapter though because it'll be Christmas. Might take me a while to write though, and I apologize. But school really is a bitch.

Sorry for any mistakes made, but I'm in a bit of a rush to get this up. I have a friend coming down for dinner in about two minutes so I haven't had time to go over it completely. Wanted to post it before I left for the night.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!


	13. Chapter 13

_Fleur had been in somewhat of a good mood that Christmas morning until she read the letter Ginny had attached to her present saying that Hermione had joined them at Grimmauld Place for the rest of break. Not once in the two feet of parchment Hermione had written her did she mention anything about being at Grimmauld Place. _

_It stung to say the least and she couldn't even enjoy opening the rest of her presents after that. Fleur wasn't quite sure what she was feeling: hurt, jealous, betrayed…Perhaps Hermione would have mentioned something if she knew Fleur's feelings for her, or maybe she was aware of them and that's why she didn't say anything. Paranoia was now added to the list of emotions._

_Even though she so desperately wanted to, Fleur refused to let herself cry. It was only pain after all; nothing that wouldn't go away once Hermione returned and gave her side of the story. There had to be a good, solid reason why she didn't tell her she was staying at Grimmauld Place instead of at the castle with her. That didn't stop Fleur from feeling completely miserable though; Hermione was always so good at causing her agonizing amounts of pain, whether she realized it or not. _

_There was a tentative knock on the door and Fleur vigorously shook her head, clearing her face of any depressed emotions. "Come in," she called from her position on her bed. "Oh, hey, Devin." Grinning at the fourth year as she stepped into the room, Fleur swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of her four-poster._

"_Hi, Fleur." Devin was Ginny's timid roommate and Fleur's new friend, as they were two of the four Gryffindors that were staying at Hogwarts over Christmas break. "Thomas, Jalen, and me are going to the feast now, and we wanted to know if you wanted to walk with us." Thomas was another fourth year and Jalen was a first year. They had all gotten to know each other well during their first week of break. _

_Flipping her hair back, Fleur slid off the bed. "Yeah, sure, but can you guys give me a few minutes to get dressed?" _

_Devin smiled and nodded. "Sure, we'll wait for you in the common room."_

_Fleur's crestfallen expression returned the instant the cute fourteen-year-old left. Grabbing some clothes from her top drawer, she hoped that spending time with the other Gryffindors could lighten her spirits, because right now, this was the worst Christmas ever. _

It was still dark outside when Hermione awoke on Christmas morning. Feeling disoriented, she sat up on her camp bed and rubbed a hand over her bleary eyes. The first thing she noticed was the large pile of presents at the foot of her bed. A more conscious Hermione would have stopped and wondered why her pile was much larger than last year. Instead, she ignored her set of presents, kicked off her comforter and swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. A violent shock shivered up her legs when her bare feet landed on the icy cold floor, and she groped blindly under her blankets for a few moments before locating her socks which she must have kicked off during the night in another fit of restless sleep.

Rapidly blinking her eyes, Hermione gazed around the still room. The moon outside reflected just enough light for her to make out Ginny's bundled up figure fast asleep on the bed next to her. Running a hand carelessly through her sleep-messy hair, she swung her head around to look at the sleeping Fleur, who was burrowed underneath four layers of thick blankets, also still asleep. Only her head remained visible from the brim of her self-made cocoon, but long locks of silvery, almost glow-in-the-dark hair obscured her face.

Her heart gave a painful tug as she stared at her peacefully sleeping girlfriend. Fleur, completely oblivious to what today had in store for her, had gone to bed last night in high spirits, excited for the next day. Once again, Hermione felt tendrils of anger shoot through her chest as she thought about Gabrielle and this "creator" ruining Fleur's Christmas. Mrs. Weasley as well; Hermione had figured out that Mrs. Weasley knew exactly what was going to happen today. The entire week she never allowed Fleur to lift a hand in helping around the house, whether it be cooking or cleaning. Fleur thought it was because the older woman would think it rude to request assistance from an uncommon houseguest, but Hermione had a feeling that it was more so Fleur could simply relax and enjoy the first half of break.

The beautiful girl who was sleeping so peacefully beside her had no idea of her heritage. Fleur was a half-blood witch and a half-blood Veela. She had been lied to since birth…and she was about to find out the truth in just a few hours time.

Hermione, herself, was curious as to what this truth might be. She had not spoken with Gabrielle since the first night and the books she had packed did not give the exact details of the Veela thrall, which meant that she still didn't know why she was immune to Fleur's heritage or why she fell under Gabrielle's thrall only when Fleur was in the room. In her books, it only mentioned that there were common exceptions to the thrall, usually among siblings, but it did not explain what those exceptions were. Hermione did not know what her own role was in this, but she assumed it to be important or else Gabrielle would not have spent the entire summer preventing the resentment she should have felt towards Fleur.

Hermione sighed. The week had passed too quickly for her liking; they mostly spent lazy days inside the Burrow after deeming it too cold to go outside and play Quidditch. Like Fleur predicted, they scarcely received a moment alone together, and Hermione was somewhat grateful for that. She wasn't sure if she could look into those jubilant blue eyes and not confess everything she knew. It felt like she was betraying Fleur, not telling her what she had unearthed.

This particular emotion sparked another feeling: Hermione could hardly stand to even _look_ at Gabrielle, so disgusted she was with her. She was unable to escape Gabrielle's thrall when Fleur was close by, but that did not mean she couldn't ignore her. Gabrielle, aware of her fury, had decided not to make things worse by speaking to her.

"Please tell me there's a good reason why you are awake _before_ the sun," croaked a half-asleep Fleur. Struggling upright, she squinted at Hermione, who had a gentle smile tugging at the left corner of her mouth.

Hermione was powerless to stop the lopsided grin forming on her face at the adorable sight of a tousle-haired Fleur. "No _good_ reason," she whispered, swinging her body around on the bed so she was facing Fleur, "I just woke up is all."

The blonde grabbed her watch off the floor, held it up close to her eyes, and squinted. "At six in the morning?" she asked dubiously. "You're completely mental, you know."

Shrugging, Hermione leaned across the foot of space between their beds and kissed the younger girl's cheek, conscious of morning breath. "If I recall correctly, you woke me up at this exact time on my sixteenth birthday. And happy Christmas."

"Good point, and happy Christmas as well." Fleur conceded, nodding her head and grinning. Appearing more awake, she examined the pile of presents at the foot of her bed, which was significantly larger than both Hermione's and Ginny's. "Wow," she muttered, staring bewildered at her gifts, "I had no idea I was this popular."

Chuckling, Hermione reached forward and grabbed the topmost present off of Fleur's pile. She frowned when she caught site of the card partially hidden beneath the abundant amount of ribbon. "Fleur," she said, staring confusedly at the name, "do you even _know_ anyone by the name Colette?" Looking up, she saw the younger girl appear just as baffled as she was.

"I think I have a cousin on my mum's side with that name," said Fleur, gazing curiously at the delicate, pink box, "but I've never actually met her before. Something happened between her mum and mine that had them not speaking with each other for years. Dunno what though…Mum never liked to talk about it." She extended a hand. "Pass it on over."

Wordlessly handing the parcel to her puzzled girlfriend, Hermione had a feeling she knew exactly what had Apolline Deveaux not speaking with her sister…it was their inability to accept her Squib blood. Half Veela, yes, but with no magical powers; it was possibly a unique case in Veela history. Hermione would have to research it when they returned to Hogwarts. "Do you have any more cousins?" she asked casually, watching as the blonde worked on the impossible knots of ribbon.

Fleur nodded, quickly glancing up at Hermione before focusing her attention back on the box. "Quite a few, but I haven't met any of them either. My grandparents disowned my mum, I believe, or that's how she tells it anyway." Pausing for a moment, her brow furrowed into a pensive expression. "Or maybe it was her who disowned them…" she trailed off, gazing curiously at the box in her hands. A second later, she shrugged, and continued untying the ribbon. "All I know is that it happened right around when my parents met. Maybe it _was_ Mum who disowned them, because if my grandparents didn't disown her when she got pregnant with Gabrielle at nineteen, I doubt they'd do it her for marrying Dad when she was twenty-one."

Nodding thoughtfully, Hermione realized that it made perfect sense now: The Deveaux's didn't disown Apolline, Apolline disowned them, refused to acknowledge their magical blood because of Kieran. She knew he would not marry her if he found out about her parents and Veela heritage. Apolline's sisters didn't stop speaking to her because she was a Squib, they stopped speaking to her because she was ashamed of them. They most likely shut their doors in her face when she went crawling back to them after Kieran left her.

However, there were still two unanswered questions: How did he find out about Apolline's heritage and why did he allow Fleur to attend Hogwarts if he hated magic so much?

Lost in her ponderings, it took Hermione a few seconds to comprehend Fleur's baffled statement. "What'd she get you?" she asked, staring at the now open box. Inside was a white rose, but when she bent forward to take a closer look, the petals instantly shifted into a deep, royal blue, and another few seconds later, it turned chartreuse.

"It's an Everlasting Flower!" said a disconcerted Fleur.

"That's a really nice gift," Hermione noted, not entirely sure why the blonde appeared so ruffled. "They originated in France, you know—what is it?"

Fleur, who had hastily placed the lid back on the box and dropped it on the floor next to her slippers, looked at Hermione, nonplussed. "How would Colette know about Everlasting Flowers?" she asked uncertainly. "She's a muggle…"

"Gabrielle probably told her about them," said the older girl, without skipping a beat. Her brain was on overdrive, furiously stringing together a feasible lie. "It's quite obvious, isn't it? She must have taken her into the Wizarding world. Just because your mum and aunt aren't speaking doesn't mean Gabrielle never made contact with Colette."

Nodding her head, Fleur picked the box back up, suddenly looking much more appreciative of the gift. "Yeah, that must be it," she decided. "Still weird though…"

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Hermione slumped her shoulders and scratched her right temple. The only peace of mind she received from lying to Fleur was that she would get the chance to redeem her lies in just a few hours time.

An irritated groan sounded from behind Hermione, and she turned her head to see a groggy-looking Ginny sitting up on her bed, glaring at her watch. "Thank you very much for the consideration," she croaked, scowling deeply at Hermione and Fleur. "We're not due to breakfast for another hour and a half."

"Sorry, Gin," Hermione said, smiling apologetically.

Shrugging, she crawled to the foot of her bed and grabbed the first box on the top of the pile. "At least there's presents, I guess."

"Yeah, Hermione," said Fleur, who was already unwrapping her next one. "Try not to look so thrilled—it's highly inappropriate to be happy on Christmas." She appeared amused that the older girl was not more excited.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione sat cross legged on her camp bed, facing the large pile of gifts in front of her. She usually received books from people, which had taken some of the excitement out of opening presents on Christmas and her birthday. It made her feel a mixture of embarrassment and indignity that people, friends and family, only ever associated her with books. Fleur was the only one who ever put any actual thought into her gifts and got her something…different. It wasn't the gift Hermione enjoyed most, it was the thought the blonde put behind it that she cared about. She knew Fleur did not spend nearly as much time on other peoples' presents and that always made her feel good about herself, knowing that someone cared about her enough to do that.

As expected, she received books from her parents, both sets of grandparents, Harry, Ron, and Ginny; interesting titles, yes, but predictable and unexciting. She gazed slightly crestfallen at the large pile of books in front of her, knowing she had pointlessly hoped for something more. Instead, she turned to the rest of her unopened presents that she knew were most certainly not books and began tearing the paper off those. Mrs. Weasley knitted her a periwinkle blue jumper, the exact color of her old dressrobes (expected); Hagrid gave her a clump of silver unicorn-tail hair. The attached note said that Fleur had mentioned she was infatuated with unicorns, which was where he had gotten the idea for the gift.

"I really love you, you know." Smiling broadly, she held up the silky hair for Fleur to see, whose eyes dawned with comprehension.

"Ah, so Hagrid got it for you then. I told him he should. It's supposed to recharge your ring or something like that," Fleur explained, pleased that Hermione appreciated the idea. Ripping the rest of the wrapping paper off the box in her hand, she chuckled when she recognized what it was. "A DVD boxset from my Uncle Lyle, bless his soul. Shame I can't watch it until summer," she said, gazing regretfully at the case.

"What's a DVD?" asked a curious Ginny.

While absently listening to Fleur's dreadful attempt at explaining what a DVD was and how it worked, Hermione turned to her last four gifts. They were most definitely not books: two of the boxes held the same, small shape and both had accompanying rolls of parchment attached; a long, rectangular package; and a thin, white envelope.

Extending a hand, Hermione reached for the envelope first. She knew it was muggle since Wizards did not use envelopes to deliver their mail in. However, there was no address or stamp on its surface; the only writing was her name printed in tiny, neat letters on the front. She held it up to her face, gazing curiously at her name. Hermione had no idea who the envelope was from or what was inside of it. The only muggles that ever sent her something on Christmas and her birthday were her parents and grandparents; none of her four aunts and uncles had sent her anything in years.

After struggling with the impossible seal for a minute, she managed to tear it open. Slipping her fingers inside, she grasped what felt like the sticky texture of a photograph and a folded sheet of paper, and slid them out. The first thing she saw was an old photo of her and Fleur on Fleur's fifteenth birthday. Hermione inhaled sharply, and quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention. They weren't: Ginny was perusing the Quidditch magazine Charlie had sent her and Fleur was sorting through the enormous box of American junk food her grandparents had given her.

Scrunching her nose in distaste at the amount of sugar on Fleur's camp bed, Hermione looked back down at the picture. They were both still (Kieran had taken the picture with a muggle camera), with their heads resting comfortably against one another and smiling. The most significant this about the photo, Hermione noticed, was Fleur's eyes: they shined with such an uncontained happiness that she had only began to see again when Fleur broke up with Matthew and made their relationship official.

Already knowing who the picture was from, Hermione unfolded the letter and immediately recognized Kieran Delacour's tiny print (Fleur possessed the exact same handwriting). She eagerly began to read.

_Hermione,_

_Look very carefully at the photograph I have given you. I knew you were special since that day, since Fleur's fifteenth birthday. Her body language, her eyes, they screamed of nothing but love and happiness towards you._

_You are aware of what today is, Hermione, and I have only one request: make my daughter as happy as she is in this picture of you two. You are the only one who has the power to do so. She'll try to run, she'll push you away, but in the end she'll realize that you are the only real and true thing she's got in this life. Me, Apolline, Gabrielle, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley…we're all liars, and Fleur puts such high value on honesty that I'm not sure if she'll ever forgive us._

_There is a reason for everything. Listen, learn, and help Fleur through this. She'll need it._

_Kieran Delacour_

"What's that you got there?" Fleur asked, craning her head to get a look at what Hermione was staring so determinedly at.

Shaking her head, Hermione smiled lightly and held up the picture. "Your dad sent me this—rather sweet of him actually." Her brow furrowed in confusion when Fleur scowled at the photo. "What?" she asked, flipping it back around to see if she had missed something.

Frowning, Fleur bit her bottom lip and avoided Hermione's eye. "It's nothing—and yeah, that's sweet of him." Her hands propped up the book in her lap for the brunette to see. "Nicer than what he sent me. 'Magical Half-Breeds of Europe and North America, Volume Three: Veelas. Least he could've done was send me one and two," she grumbled, tossing the book carelessly onto the bed.

Hermione's head tilted and she stared hard at Fleur. Once again, she had the feeling the blonde wasn't telling her everything, but she had no idea what it could possibly be.

Leaning forward, she pulled the last three gifts towards her. After designating the long, rectangular package as Fleur's gift, Hermione pushed it aside (intending to open it last), grabbed the first navy blue box and carefully detached the roll of parchment. Her face darkened when she saw whose name was written in loopy script at the bottom of the short note.

_Hermione,_

_Swallow three drops of this potion every morning and you will be granted twenty-four hour immunity against Gabrielle's thrall. _

_Apolline_

Hermione curiously opened the box and pulled out a small, unlabeled vial of metallic purple liquid. Twisting off the cap, she inhaled the intoxicating scent and found herself sighing blissfully. It was obviously some brand of relaxation potion, which smelled exactly like Fleur: a mixture of the sweet scent of fruity shampoo she preferred and the lotion she put on after every shower. It strongly reminded her of the Amortentia potion Professor Slughorn had shown them on their first day.

She had an idea of what the potion would do—fill all her senses with everything Fleur, cancelling out the effect Gabrielle's thrall would have on her. As much as Hermione disliked Apolline at the moment, her gift would come in good use. The effort it took to ignore Gabrielle and her thrall was wearing her down; after every encounter, she felt as though she had run several miles, with short breath and an overwhelming exhaustion.

The second box was Gabrielle's gift, which Hermione had suspected. She detached the note first from this one also, and blushed deeply when she read its words. "She has got to be joking," Hermione muttered to herself as she opened the box and pulled out another vial of the same shape, only its color was a metallic blue. She carefully popped the cap off, held it under her nose and inhaled: she could smell nothing.

"Pretty," Fleur said approvingly, gazing at the thick, metallic liquid. "What's it do?"

Hermione stared at her for a moment before wordlessly handing her Gabrielle's note, too embarrassed to announce its purpose aloud. "Your sister is unbelievable, Fleur," she said, scratching awkwardly behind her ear.

The younger girl arched an eyebrow and flicked her eyes back and forth between the parchment and the vial still in Hermione's hand. "That she is," Fleur agreed. Chuckling nervously, she leaned forward and handed the note back to the other girl. She caught the delightful scent permeating from the open bottle and immediately noticed its carnal effect on her. "Put the top back on it, will you?" She stared hard at the metal bed-frame. "I can smell it."

Flustered, Hermione hastily pushed the cap back on. "Sorry," she apologized even though the damage had been done.

"What is it?" asked Ginny, who was regarding the vial with interest. She reached forward and took the parchment when Hermione held it up for her. Her brow furrowed deeper and deeper as she read the letter. When she was done, she looked between an embarrassed Hermione and an uncomfortably shifting Fleur. Dropping her gaze back to the parchment, she shook her head. "Would you guys like me to leave?" she asked with an innocent smile. "Cause I can go help Mum with breakfast."

"Ginny…" Hermione began uneasily.

The younger girl held up her hands and shook her head. "As long as you guys don't have this rough, potion-induced sex," she tapped the letter with her index finger, "on _my_ bed, then I don't care."

"Good to know," Fleur piped, halfway through opening the last large package. The heated arousal that had been coursing between her legs the moment before was gone now and she was still struggling to find reasons why Gabrielle would even consider getting Hermione a sexual stimulation potion. The brief whiff she caught had been saturated with the brunette's intoxicating scent, overpowering to the point where Fleur almost lost control. She had wanted Hermione so badly that it physically hurt to put distance between them. Sighing, Fleur knew she would have to talk to her sister about this later.

Tearing the paper off the face of the box, her face lit into a wide smile when she saw what was underneath. "You're amazing, Hermione!" she said happily, already opening the box to take out the magical camera.

Smiling softly, Hermione watched as an enthusiastic Fleur carefully removed the camera from its holding and searched for the instruction book. "I thought you'd like it."

It was several minutes later, after Ginny departed for a shower and Fleur was perusing the instruction manual, when Hermione realized she still hadn't opened her last present from Fleur. With a mounting sense of anticipation, she reached for the simply, green box and slowly peeled off the paper to the heavy, six inch rectangle. Fleur had stopped reading and was gazing at Hermione's face, eager to see her expression.

"It's in the box," Fleur needlessly offered after the older girl had removed all traces of paper, revealing a handsome, leather case.

Lifting the lid in a meticulous fashion, Hermione gasped when she saw what was inside. "Oh my god," she breathed, gingerly lifting the ornately framed mirror and resting its weight in both palms. "Fleur, how did you…?" She looked up at Fleur, who seemed pleased by her reaction.

"Harry told me about the mirrors Sirius gave him for communication, but apparently those were one of a kind." She shook her blonde head regretfully. "So I got that instead."

Hermione gave her a dubious look. "Visiting Mirrors are some of the rarest items on the planet—how did you manage to come across this?"

"Found it in a muggle shop down in the village Gabrielle and I visited last Sunday." Standing up, Fleur carelessly pushed some wrapping paper off the spot next to the brunette and sat down. "They didn't know what it was, and the person on till laughed when I offered to pay…" she trailed off, smiling at the other girl and blindly groping for her wand, which she had left next to her slippers the night before. After finding it underneath some paper, she sat up straight and rested her right hand on Hermione's thigh. "I recognized it from the picture in our Charms book. Just tap your wand against it and you can see anyone you want." After a few moments, she cleared her throat, tapped her wand against the mirror's surface, and muttered, "Apolline Deveaux—I'd like to see what my mum's up to today."

The surface rippled like water and several seconds later, the stunning Apolline appeared. She was gazing at something just beyond them with a grim expression. She opened her mouth to talk but no sound came out.

"The inventors of this mirror thought it good to provide some semblance of privacy," Fleur said matter-of-factly, glancing at Hermione, who looked just as grim as her mother. "And quite frankly, I agree. No need to intrude on someone's personal…" she trailed off, frowning and bending to look closer at the mirror. "She's here…"

Hermione was tempted to snatch the mirror out of Fleur's view when Mrs. Weasley stepped into the frame and placed a comforting hand on the other woman's shoulder. Her suspicions had been confirmed: Apolline was the 'creator' Gabrielle had been talking about, and she was downstairs at that exact moment, clearly dreading what was about to take place.

"Why didn't she tell me she was coming?" Flinging herself off the brunette's camp bed, Fleur propelled herself to Ginny's dresser, yanked off her pajamas, and pulled on the first clothes she found in her drawer. "This is great!"

Hermione said nothing, gazing down at Apolline, who appeared almost sick. She could not escape her own feeling of dread. What would Fleur do when she found out the reason her mother was there wasn't for a surprise Christmas trip? How would she react when she found out her true heritage? How betrayed would she feel when she discovered that Hermione already knew?

Rubbing her fingertips against her forehead, she placed the mirror back in its box and stood up. She had no idea what to say, and knew there wasn't really anything she could have said. There was nothing Hermione could do to protect Fleur right now; the only thing she could do was let her go downstairs and face the truth.

"Wait, where are you going?" Hermione said when Fleur rushed passed her to get to the door.

The blonde turned around and gave her an incredulous look. "To see my mother," she said, pointing at the closed door. "She's in the kitchen, you see."

Hermione closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. "Yes, I know that, but—"

"So I'll see you down there then." Stepping forward, she leaned down and missed the older girl's lips, kissing her chin instead. Unfazed, she offered Hermione a dazzling smile and retreated out of the room before the brunette had a chance to say another word.

Sighing, Hermione stared at the open doorway for a moment before quickly stepping forward, closing it, and moving to get dressed. She figured she had at least a few minutes to get ready; Apolline wouldn't begin the moment Fleur stepped into the room.

Glancing at the mirror, she saw Fleur jump into her mother's arms and felt her heart give a painful tug. The younger girl looked so happy…

_Hermione leaned back into her own chair after Kieran clicked the camera. She always felt somewhat ridiculous smiling for cameras but if Fleur was in the photo, she didn't mind as much, especially since the blonde loved to pose for cameras. Hermione had quite a few pictures where her friend was posing in a comically dramatic fashion. _

"_Tell me again why Hermione and I are _flying_ to France tomorrow," Fleur requested, pushing hair out of her face as the breeze picked up. "Portkeys are so much faster. Would get there in seconds as opposed to hours."_

_Hermione quietly listened as Kieran explained for the tenth time why they were taking a plane to go to France. She sipped her strawberry lemonade and looked around. _

_They were sitting at an outside table in one of the nicest restaurants she had ever been to. The menu prices alone were enough to make her eyes bug out, but when she watched Fleur order one of the most expensive entrees, Hermione knew she was used to this kind of luxury. She, herself, was no stranger to money, but her parents preferred a more reserved approach on spending it in places like this. _

"_I'm looking forward to it," Hermione said, resting her glass on the table. "I haven't been on a plane in ages."_

_Fleur blinked. "Hermione, you're deathly afraid of heights."_

_Shrugging, she swirled her straw and smiled softly at the blonde. Her eyes flicked towards Kieran, who was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. "There's a difference between flying in a plane and flying on a broom."_

"_I agree, the plane could very likely explode," Fleur nodded seriously. _

"_And you can fall hundreds of feet from your broom," she battled. "Planes are safer."_

"_Safer, yes, but not faster. Portkeys—"_

"_Are horribly expensive to set up between countries with different ministries," Hermione interrupted. "More expensive than it would be to travel the muggle way."_

_Fleur opened her mouth to retort but closed it again. She was very self-conscious of her father's wealth, and never mentioned it to anyone at Hogwarts. Even with Hermione she had reservations on saying anything. "At least there's a bright side," she said, changing tact. Her face scrunched up in irritation when the wind blew more hair into her face and she huffily pushed it aside._

"_What would that be?"_

_Standing up, Fleur leaned down and rested her weight on her right hand, which was on the table's edge. "Besides the legroom of first class? Spending time with you." She grinned at Hermione, who stared back at her, smiling gently._

"_Always the charmer," the older girl said. Her heart was beating madly against her ribs and her stomach felt warm. _

"_Aren't I?" Fleur stood up straight and took a step backwards. "Bathroom break," she said, pointing inside the restaurant. "I'll be back in a couple." Offering the brunette another dazzling smile, she spun around and zig-zagged through the occupied tables._

_Tilting her head, Hermione watched Fleur until she disappeared inside. Her stomach was still doing flip-flops, but she was used to them by now. Her blonde friend always made her heart pound. _

_Turning back around, she saw Kieran peering at her through his glasses with a dawning twinkle in his eyes. Suddenly, she felt awkward, as though he had somehow uncovered her private thoughts. Hermione reached for her drink in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. _

"_I'm glad you agreed to accompany Fleur to France," Kieran began. He ran a hand through his tall spikes and bent forward, resting his weight on his forearms. "She was very excited when you accepted."_

_Hermione smiled and leaned back in her chair in a subconscious attempt to distance herself from the invading eyes of Fleur's father. Normally, she had no qualms about being alone with him—they had found common ground on many things—but she felt very uncomfortable with the knowing look he was giving her. _

"_She was happy when you asked her to stay until after her birthday," Hermione offered, not knowing what else to say. _

_Nodding, Kieran moved back and rested his arms comfortably across his stomach. "A rare occurrence I regret to say."_

_Hermione frowned. "Which part? Fleur being happy or you taking her birthday off from work?" She cringed internally, hoping that she had not sounded rude._

"_Fleur's happiness is not as rare occurrence as some might think. Especially when she's with you." The twinkle in his eyes was more apparent than ever, and he gave her a toothless smile._

"_What do you mean?" she asked, confused._

_Kieran stared at her closely for several moments, giving Hermione the impression that he wanted to choose his next words correctly. "You're her best friend—you make her happy," he said slowly and finally._

_She smiled in response, pleased that Kieran had drawn that conclusion. However, she had a distinct feeling that was not what he had wanted to say._

"You should have said you were coming," Fleur said with her arms still wrapped around Apolline.

The older woman pulled out of the hug and took a step back, admiring her daughter's change of appearance. Fleur's hair was longer than it had been over the summer and the happy aura surrounding the girl was something Apolline had not seen in quite some time. She knew that Hermione Granger had played the key role in that.

"Gabrielle and I thought it would be a nice surprise," she said. Her accent was much heavier than Gabrielle's, and Fleur almost wished she would speak in French, as it would be easier to understand. However, that would be rude to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were sitting at the table watching them.

"Brilliant surprise more like." For the first time, Fleur took in her mother's appearance. Apolline looked exhausted, completely worn out: her shoulders were slumped forward, there were heavy bags under her eyes, and her overall complexion seemed pale and waxy. Brow furrowing, Fleur threw a wary glance at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and decided not to ask Apolline if she was sick while they were in the room. "Who else knew?"

Apolline's eyes flicked over her head as she caught sight of someone entering the kitchen. "Hermione!" she smiled, displaying a row of straight, pearly white teeth. "It's so good to see you again." Stepping around Fleur, she moved and embraced the shorter girl, kissing each cheek.

"Hi, Apolline," Hermione responded stiffly, not returning the hug and scowling when the older woman kissed her. Her eyes darted towards Fleur, who was staring at her with raised eyebrows, and she quickly moved to stand by her side.

"I was so disappointed when you couldn't make it this summer," Apolline said, glancing down when Hermione intertwined her fingers with Fleur's.

Shrugging, Hermione said nothing and continued to glower at the woman. When Apolline's attention turned to an entering Gabrielle, Fleur tightened her grip on the brunette's hand and whispered furiously in her ear. "What's gotten into you?"

She blinked innocently. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you giving my mother those looks?"

"What looks?"

Fleur struggled to think of something to compare it to. "You look like you're about to do some nasty curse on her."

"I look no such way!" Hermione averted her gaze and watched as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley tried to surreptitiously exit the kitchen. Eyes flashing, she tuned to Fleur, leaned over, and quickly kissed her cheek. "Fleur, I love you," she whispered. "Don't ever doubt it."

Frowning, the blonde slowly said, "I don't…"

There was something going on and Fleur had the feeling that she was the only one who didn't know what it was. Apolline and Gabrielle were both approaching her now with solemn expressions, and Hermione looked a mixture of furious and miserable. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had left the kitchen, which was a rarity in itself, as Mrs. Weasley was supposed to be preparing breakfast.

"So, er, thanks for the locket, Mum," Fleur began. She was surprised at how much her voice trembled. Why did she feel so scared all of a sudden? "I couldn't get it to open though…" Her voice was still trembling and she fingered the silver locket resting on her chest against Mrs. Weasley's lilac jumper.

Apolline eyed the thin, oval shaped locket for a second. "It will open when you are ready for it," she said cryptically.

Fleur tilted her head and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm not entirely sure what that means," she said, confused. Had her mother bought this in the Wizarding world? That was the only reason she could fathom why it would not open now.

Apolline stepped forward, leaving a troubled Gabrielle a foot behind her. "Hermione, will you please leave us?" she carefully requested, giving the brunette a pointed gaze and flicking her eyes towards the stairs.

"Why does Hermione need to leave?" Fleur asked, clueless, her eyes darting back and forth between her girlfriend and Apolline.

Scowling, Hermione ignored the younger girl's question but squeezed her hand gently. "No, I will not!" she said angrily. "And you're delusional if you thought for a second that I would leave Fleur."

"Leaving me? What's going on?" Fleur felt a growing sense of dread creep throughout her body. Whatever was going on, Hermione knew about it and was obviously furious with Apolline and Gabrielle with the way she was glowering at them. But what was it? What could it possibly be? Her mind whirled with possibilities but she could not draw up anything feasible.

Mouth thinning, Apolline looked irritated, but she jerked her head in acceptance to Hermione's unwillingness to go back upstairs. "Fleur, there is something we need to talk to you about," she began after a deep breath.

Fleur's mouth dried and she extended a shaky hand behind her, blindly groping for a chair. When her hands found the square edge of a chair back, she pulled it out, barely registering the loud scraping noise. "Something I should sit down for?" She didn't wait for a response but dropped into the chair, letting go of the brunette's hand in the process. "Hermione, what's going on?" she asked in a small voice.

Resting a gentle hand on her shoulder, Hermione glared at Apolline and Gabrielle, who looked just as frightened as Fleur. "They'll tell you," she stated.

The blonde laughed humorlessly in an attempt to ease some of her trepidation. "I don't think I've ever been cornered quite like this before…it's very unsettling." Blinking rapidly, she glanced all around the kitchen, avoiding everyone's eye.

Apolline sighed and took another step forward. The so far silent Gabrielle followed this time. "Before I begin, I just need you to know that your father and I both love you more than anything." Her accent was thick, but Fleur understood her perfectly and she frowned; what did her father have to do with anything?

"As do I," Gabrielle voiced. Fleur noticed that her sister's hands were shaking.

"And we have our reasons for keeping this from you for so long," Apolline continued.

The younger girl chewed on her bottom lip, feeling bitter. "Secrets on Christmas, huh? Don't know why I'm so surprised." She should have known that she would never get a happy Christmas. Why had she even hoped for one? Something always happened.

"Fleur…"

Climbing to her feet, she flipped her hair back and stared hard at Apolline. "You best get on with it, Mum, because I am half a second away from walking out that door. _What_ do you need to tell me?" The familiar tendrils of anger replaced her dread and she found herself tempted to step forward and slap her mother. Instead, she backed herself into the table and clutched its edge, afraid that she might actually do so. When Hermione placed a hand on her arm, she calmed down somewhat and smiled gratefully at the other girl, pleased that she could read her emotions.

Apolline quietly watched their tender exchange with a soft smile playing at the edges of her lips. When Fleur focused her attention back on her, she took another deep breath. "There are things about myself that I have not been entirely honest about," she began, keeping her eyes on her daughter. "I lied to your father about it and it destroyed our marriage." Fleur's face darkened but she said nothing. "And I have been lying to you your entire life."

Instead of clutching the table's edge, Fleur's hand flew to grasp Hermione's arm, and the brunette rested her other hand on top. "Lying about what?" she croaked apprehensively, her blue eyes wide.

"About your heritage," she started. Running a hand through her platinum hair, she licked her lips before continuing. "You see, Fleur, I was born into a Wizard family, but not just a regular Wizard family: both of my parents are Veela." Fleur was staring at the floor with a hardened expression. "Unfortunately, I did not inherit any magical powers, just the Veela blood."

Clutching Hermione's arm much tighter than was healthy, Fleur suddenly saw all the pieces to the puzzle of her life slip into a perfect rectangle. Everything made sense now. The Everlasting Flower from Colette; the Veela book her father had sent her; the reason why Kieran was never able to prove Apolline a fraud in court; why she had never been allowed to meet any of her aunts, uncles, or cousins; Gabrielle's effect on Hermione; and countless other happenings that never seemed to make any sense but Fleur hadn't thought to question.

"You're a Squib," she stated quietly, still staring at the floor and wishing that she wouldn't believe it so quickly.

"Yes," Apolline confirmed.

"And a Veela."

"That is correct."

"And I'm…"

"A half-blood witch and a half-blood Veela," Apolline said.

"And you're a liar."

The older woman was taken aback; Fleur's voice went from monotonous to loathing in an instant, and when the girl finally made eye contact, there was hatred, a fury, in her eyes that Apolline had never seen before. "Fleur…" she began weakly.

"How could you not tell me?" Fleur asked angrily. Ripping her hand away from Hermione, she took several steps down along the table, distancing herself.

Gabrielle placed a delicate hand on Apolline's shoulder to stop her from moving closer. Fleur almost wanted to laugh; at least her sister knew how close she was to getting violent.

"Your father forbade it, Fleur, he took you away," Apolline defended.

"Don't! Don't you fucking dare blame Dad for _your_ mistakes!" She clenched her fist so hard that the skin on her palms split open where her nails were pressed. "It's a good thing he did take me away, got me well away from a lying fuck like you!"

Apolline looked outraged by the insult, but she said nothing.

"What, not going to come slap the disrespect out of my mouth? Sarcasm aside, I'm so very thrilled that you know how much you deserve whatever I say to you." Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile when the older woman looked away guiltily. "But it's not like I can help it now, can I? Veelas are known for their violent mood swings and anger." She clenched her eyes shut and let her rage course through her chest. "God fucking damn, that explains a lot. All my anger," her hand swept across the table and collided with the glass vase, sending flying across the kitchen where it shattered into hundreds of pieces against the sink cabinet, "all this rage that I keep feeling but can't explain why, the overwhelming jealousy, the mood swings—I thought I was just fucking bipolar." She laughed bitterly, but it turned into a choked back sob. When Hermione stepped forward to comfort her, she retreated even further back and held up a warding hand.

"Fleur," Hermione said, a solemn expression on her face.

The blonde shook her head and avoided her eyes. Instead, she faced Apolline and Gabrielle, who both looked miserably at her. "Am I going to turn into one of those bird things?" she asked in a small voice, sounding much younger. "Do half-bloods…does that happen to them?"

"No, you're safe from that. The transformation only happens to full-blooded Veela," Gabrielle spoke before Apolline could answer.

Fleur clenched her fists even tighter, trying to hold back the threatening tears. She couldn't bear to look at Hermione; she felt so dirty. "God, I'm not even human," she whispered. And once again, Fleur felt that familiar painful rage return.

"You're human, Fleur, Veela are human," Hermione said, tears falling down her face as she watched her girlfriend retreat so far into herself. "There is _nothing _wrong with you."

"How can you say that?" Fleur screamed, bringing a bleeding hand up to clutch her hair. "How can you stand there and say that to me? You saw how they treated Lupin for being a werewolf, he's a fucking half-blood too! People treated me horribly enough for being 'muggleborn;' what are they going to do when they find out I'm only _half_ human?"

"Nothing! Veela is one of the only socially accepted species in the world, nothing will happen to you!"

It was Hermione's use of the word 'species' that made her blood run cold. Fleur stared at her girlfriend with absent eyes and felt something inside of her break. She needed to get out of there, she needed to get away from all the liars in the room, she needed to escape the shame of looking at Hermione with half-blood, _impure_ eyes.

"Dad beat the shit out of me one time last summer, you know," Fleur said vacantly. "He kicked me black and blue, left me so bloody and bruised that I was unconscious on the kitchen floor for hours. Or maybe that was just the cut to head I got when he broke his knuckle against my cheek that had me out for so long."

Apolline and Gabrielle looked horrified, but that didn't come nearly as close to how Hermione looked. Her eyes were wide and fearful, streaming a fresh wave of tears, and she appeared as though someone had kneed her in the gut.

"Either way, he did it because I got angry with him and said some things…it was the _Veela_ in me that caused me to get beaten; it was the Veela that _you_," she spat at Apolline, "gave me. But even though he did that to me, I don't find myself hating him anymore—if I'm allowed to lose it, why can't he? It's _you_ that I'm hating right now, Mum. There's a reason for everything, right? Well I don't give a damn anymore." A tear slid down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away with her bloody fingertips. "My entire life has been a complete lie, and not for the life of me can I figure out _why_."

"I told you already, Fleur, your father—"

"Shouldn't be the wall you hide behind just because you're too afraid to tell me the truth!" the younger girl yelled, moving even further back. She was a step away from the Burrow's living room now. "You have me for an entire month every summer. A _month_! What stopped you from telling me then? What stopped you from telling me when I got my bloody acceptance into Hogwarts?"

Rubbing an exhausted hand across her face, Apolline sighed. "You weren't ready to know then."

"And I'm ready to know now?"

"The circumstances have changed now!"

"How?" Fleur exclaimed. "How have the circumstances possibly changed from last summer? Why the fuck are you telling me this on Christmas day?" Perhaps if she was in a more rational state of mind, she could have figured out Apolline's reasoning on her own, but at the moment, she could fathom nothing.

Closing her eyes, Apolline muttered, "Hermione."

That made Fleur pause and she stared at her mother in disbelief. "Hermione?"

"Me?" For the first time that morning, the brunette displayed surprised, which pleased Fleur somewhat, knowing that Hermione didn't know everything before she did.

Apolline chewed on her lip for a moment, staring at the tall ceiling. "There are things that only a Veela can experience when they are in love," she said slowly and carefully. "Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what those feelings are, you just needed to know about your heritage before something…" An embarrassed smiled played at the corners of her lips. "Before things get more serious than they already are."

The tips of Fleur's ears reddened slightly, as she knew exactly what the older woman was talking about. But with the way she felt towards Hermione right now, she doubted it would ever come to that. Why would Hermione ever want to make love with someone who wasn't even human? It was dirty, disgusting. She deserved someone better than Fleur, someone whole. "Why Christmas day?" she repeated weakly.

Shrugging, Apolline waved her hand casually through the air. "It is somewhat of a tradition really."

"It's tradition to confess a lifelong lie on what's supposed to be a day of happiness?" Fleur asked, feeling another wave of fury and loathing wash over her at her mother's careless attitude.

Gabrielle pushed past the older woman before she voiced another tactless sentence. "It is tradition to give a Veela woman a locket on their sixteenth Christmas. The truth does not necessarily accompany the locket, but with your growing relationship with Hermione…the two are connected," she explained quietly and gently, as though she were speaking to someone on a sickbed.

"Oh…" Fleur didn't know what else to say. She had had enough by that point, enough of the betrayal and the lies. The fireplace was only a few steps away; she could escape that way. She already had a place in mind to go to.

Seizing the locket's chain, she yanked her hand forward, broke it off, and threw the warm silver at Apolline's feet, where it clattered for a moment before going still. She glared at her with as much hatred as she could muster. "Fuck tradition then. You did wrong, Mum, so you can go back to France and drown in a lake for all I could care. I'm glad Dad left you."

Fleur knew it would have been kinder to storm over and actually hit Apolline than to have said those words. However, she felt a sick surge of satisfaction when she saw the appalled look on her mother's face. "Sorry, guess my Veela heritage got the best of me," she hissed cruelly.

Without another word, she spun around on the spot and rushed forward, groping in the suspended dish for a handful of Floo powder. Hermione's hand was already drawing out her wand to stop her, but Fleur was faster; she muttered her destination and was gone in a flash of whirling, green flames.

* * *

A/N: I know I left some of the Veela explanations incomplete but they'll be answered in the next chapter, including Gabrielle's thrall on Hermione. I hope I managed to capture Fleur's reaction well enough to be realistic; she's back to the angry girl she was in the beginning of the story. Hermione/Fleur drama is coming up...

**GoldenEvence**: I can totally see the girl you chose to play Fleur, and I think you chose better than I did because I like yours more. I think I might go back and change the picture to her...

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione gazed hollowly at the shimmering transparent shield she conjured to block the fireplace. Fleur had managed to dive into the blinding, green flames right before the magical wall slid into place. It was her moment of hesitation that the blonde took advantage of. Hermione could have used another spell, a more effective one to stop Fleur from escaping, but damaged pride on top of everything she had just been told…Hermione refused to do that to her.

Though she had stopped crying, her cheeks were still wet with tears and she brought her sleeve up to dry her face. Hermione's heart had just been torn to shreds, but for a different reason; she could almost feel the agony rolling off Fleur, the shame, the doubt, the anger, the confusion, it radiated off her in intense flashes. It killed Hermione to see her girlfriend so lost in herself, it dug at her entire body like a parasite. She felt like she was trying to recover from being hit by a bus; everything inside of her hurt so much, but it didn't even come close to what Fleur was feeling.

Waving her wand in a wide arch, Hermione removed the shield and turned sharply to face Apolline and Gabrielle, who were both staring at the fireplace as though it had delivered them news that a loved one had just died. She mustered the darkest look she was capable of glared murderously at the blondes. "You two deserve Azkaban after what just happened," she hissed, surprised at how hateful her voice sounded; she had never spoken that way to anyone before. "I agree with Fleur." Her eyes narrowed on Apolline and she knew the older woman was aware of what she was referring to by the way her eyes watered slightly.

Whirling around on one foot, Hermione began to march across the kitchen towards the stairs. The first thing she would do was use the Visiting Mirror to find Fleur, and then she would take the Floo Network to her location and help her get through this. That was what Kieran asked her to do in his letter, but she wasn't going to do it for him. Apolline and Gabrielle might be liars, but she liked them a thousand times more than she liked Kieran at that moment.

Hermione abruptly spun around so she was facing the two women once again and glowered. "Did you know about Kieran?" she asked, her voice taking on a high pitched tone. Tears leaked from her eyes again and she didn't bother wiping them. "Did you know about the abuse?" Swallowing hard, Hermione tried to look furious again, but she only felt scared, absolutely petrified of the truth behind Fleur's words.

Apolline appeared to have absorbed the Hermione's anger because she suddenly looked animalistic; her features remained distinctly human but she was scowling so dramatically that Hermione thought the bird transformation would have been more pleasant to the eye. "We knew nothing," she said, smoke issuing from her fingertips.

"I knew there was something wrong," Gabrielle muttered, dropping weakly into a chair. "I knew but I did not do anything."

Satisfied that they were telling the truth, Hermione turned to leave. Her blood was so cold; she never felt so horrified in her life. When Fleur talked about the abuse…she had never felt so sick before and she wanted to throw up everything inside of her, anything to escape the terrifying words that came out of her girlfriend's mouth. The blonde had been living with this secret for months. Why hadn't she told her?

Sighing, Hermione had a feeling she knew the reason behind Fleur's reluctance: it was an inferiority complex. It was the same reason why her half-human blood status made her feel sick about herself. She felt like others were better than her just because they never went through something like that. Choking back another sob, Hermione braced herself against the doorframe to the stairway.

"Do not go yet," Apolline said, sounding much more collected.

Her face hardened. "I have to find Fleur," she said icily. Hermione took one step up and was propelled backwards, skidding on her heels for a second before falling painfully on her back. She looked at the staircase and saw the same shimmering shield she casted at the fireplace earlier. "_What_ is your problem?" she snapped viciously, climbing to her feet and glaring at Gabrielle, who looked at her guiltily and lowered her wand.

Apolline's fingertips had stopped smoking and her chest rose and fell in a way that reminded Hermione of Fleur's morning meditation ritual. "We have matters to discuss," she stated formally.

Hermione's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Fleur is gone god knows where, and you want to sit around the kitchen and _talk_?" She chuckled humorlessly, shaking her head. Glancing at the stairs, she scowled at the Gabrielle. "Remove the barrier," she demanded.

"No," Apolline said firmly. "Fleur will not listen to us anymore."

"The perception in this family is simply marvelous," Hermione muttered under her breath.

The blonde raised an eyebrow but igored the comment. "There is still more we need to tell her about her heritage. It is important."

She immediately caught on to their game. "And you want me to play messenger, is that it?" Eyes narrowing, Hermione crossed her arms and rested her weight on her right leg. As much as she hated to admit it, the Apolline was right; Fleur hadn't stuck around long enough to hear the importance of her heritage. There was a reason for everything, as everyone around her repeatedly said, much to her escalating irritation, and Fleur deserved to know that reason. "Fine," she said offhandedly, as though she did not care for what they had to say. "Enlighten me."

The corner of Apolline's mouth twitched, giving the brunette the impression she saw right through her act. This did not please her in the slightest. "Please just make it quick." She swallowed hard, moving forward and dropping into the chair next to Gabrielle. "Fleur's out there somewhere, terrified and alone." Hermione gave the older woman a pleading look. "And I get the feeling that I'm the only one who can help her."

Apolline gazed at her for several long moments. Her eyes roamed up and down Hermione's body, taking in her changing emotions. It was clear the younger girl was being emotionally stretched; she was terrified for Fleur, furious with Apolline and Gabrielle, and stricken by Kieran. All because of her love for Fleur.

"You are not wrong."

The younger girl hadn't the slightest idea how right she was. If Apolline ever had any doubt about Hermione's significance in her daughter's life, it was gone now. Sitting down across from her and Gabrielle, Apolline crossed her hands and rested her arms on the table. "You play the most important role in Fleur's life." She paused and waited for her words to sink in.

Hermione nodded slowly, feeling her hands begin to tremble. Finally, she was going to get the truth out of these women. "I've gathered as much," she said irritably, wishing Apolline wasn't always so vague. Every second she spent here, Fleur was drifting farther and farther away. "What is this role exactly?"

Sensing the other girl's irritation, Apolline looked her directly in the eye and leaned further forward. "You are her Chosen."

* * *

Fleur skidded several feet on her stomach after rocketing out of the fireplace in a dark mess of ash. Terrified screams met her ears and she quickly struggled to her feet, ignoring the usual intense urge to throw up after Floo travel. "It's all right!" she exclaimed, holding her hands above her head to show she was wandless. "It's just me! It's Fleur!"

Aiden Vaughn squinted at the soot-covered Fleur for a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. "Fleur?" he said, lowering his wand, bewildered. "What are you doing here?"

Before she could respond, Matthew charged into the room, looking around wildly, and brandishing his wand. "Fleur?" He frowned when he saw her standing in the middle of his living room, covered in debris. "God, what are you doing here?" He too lowered his wand and took several steps forward.

"Not so fast, Matthew," Shalese said, flicking her eyes toward her son before scowling at Fleur once more. She had not lowered her wand. "How do we know it's her?" The Vaughn's had not yet lost anyone close to them, but the dark times had made her wary and untrusting.

"Mum," he said slowly, shaking his head and scratching his temple in embarrassment.

"Necessary precaution," she said stiffly, not taking her eyes off the other girl. "Ask her something only she would know."

Matthew glanced between Shalese and Fleur before rolling his eyes. "What did I get you for Christmas and how did I get it?" he asked, his gazed fixed on the other girl. Something was wrong, he knew; her entire demeanor shrieked with pain and confusion.

"A vial of Felix Felicis, twelve hours worth, you persuaded Slughorn to give you some after you were the only one who managed to brew it perfectly in class," Fleur said without skipping a beat. "Thanks by the way, you were right, I really do like it."

He offered her a quick smile. "Knew you would." He turned to his mother. "It's her," he declared.

Nodding slowly, Shalese flicked her wand, removing the dust and debris from Fleur's body, and lowered it. She moved forward and embraced the taller girl briefly. "It's good to see you again," she said warmly. "But what are you doing here?" Taking a step back, she took note of Fleur's slouched posture and miserable expression. "Did something happen at the Burrow? Were you attacked?"

"Nothing of the sort," Fleur said quickly. She licked her lips, staring at the floor to avoid eye contact.

Shalese studied her for several long moments. Finally, when she realized the other girl was here on account of personal matters and would say no more, she faced Matthew. "Why don't you take her on upstairs to your room," she suggested kindly. "Fleur, did you tell anyone you were coming here?"

Shaking her head, Fleur drifted close to Matthew, who gazed at her, clearly concerned. "No, but there's someone who knows how to find me," she said cryptically, letting her head fall on her ex-boyfriend's shoulder. He wrapped a comforting arm around her waist and she inhaled the smell of his freshly laundered shirt. "I'm sure she's figured it out by now." Hermione was intelligent; the Visiting Mirror would show her exactly where Fleur was. If the blonde had any idea this was how her morning would have turned out, she would never have given the mirror to her girlfriend.

Fleur did not know what she was feeling; her emotions were constantly shifting and twisting. Apolline and Gabrielle made her feel nothing but anger, hatred, and confusion, but when she thought of Hermione, she felt shame and betrayal. Fleur had no idea how long the other girl had been protecting her family's lies, and the fact that she even guarded them at all cut deeper than anyone would ever know.

She couldn't stand herself; she felt disgusting and dirty. Her entire life had been nothing but lies, deceit, and pain. It would not have been nearly as bad if Apolline just confessed that she was a half-blood witch, but no; Fleur was half animal, half of that bird thing she couldn't recall the name of. She might not transform into one, but she could feel the emotions that instigated it: rage, jealousy, a constant irritation that would never go away but she had learned to ignore. Hermione would never understand why she was sickened with herself, but Fleur knew. It was every time she lost her temper, every time she said something cruel and hurtful in a fit of spontaneous anger. She used to think she could control it, change it, but that was just another lie on top of the growing mound. The animal blood inside of her guaranteed a life-long struggle of anger she could never rid herself of. The Veela blood coursing through her veins was the reason she had hurt Hermione as much as she did. She was a true Mudblood after all.

"What's her name?" Shalese asked, breaking Fleur out of her thoughts.

Raising a hand to smooth her tousled hair out of her face, Fleur noticed the blood on her hands was dry and figured the Floo ride's heat had something to do with it. "Hermione Granger," she answered. "If you want something to ask her, she has a twenty six-year-old half-brother named Neal from her dad's first marriage. Not many people know about him so it's a safe bet." Hermione considered it a waste of time to tell people about a brother she had never even met. She didn't consider Neal family, hardly considered her own family a family, so she never mentioned him. However, Fleur knew the brunette was curious about him, as she was about everything unknown.

Her heart twisted painfully as Matthew led her through a narrow hall and up a long flight of stairs. Fleur loved Hermione; no matter how disgusting she felt, she needed the other girl there with her, she needed Hermione to wrap her in her arms and tell her everything was going to be all right.

* * *

Hermione blinked, not entirely sure what Apolline was talking about. In all the research she had done the past week on Veela, which had been limited due to the lack of available books, she never read anything of a 'Chosen.' "What's that supposed to be?" she asked, not even pretending to know anything about it.

There was a loud thumping noise from the landing above and Hermione heard Mrs. Weasley's muffled voice drift down, no doubt telling Ginny not to go downstairs.

Apolline quickly glanced at the ceiling before resuming. "Chosen are a Veela's anchor, in a sense. As you very well know, we are an emotionally unstable breed." A brief smile crossed Hermione's lips. "So unstable that Fate binds us with a Chosen, a vision of perfection in our eyes for they are the one person that can offer us the true stability we need to get through life. You, Hermione, are Fleur's Chosen, bound to her by Fate." Apolline paused for several long moments, allowing the younger girl to comprehend her words.

Hermione smiled softly at the worn table cloth in front of her and fiddled with its edges. She felt an intense surge of affection towards Fleur as she let Apolline's words sink in, and ached to go find her more desperately than ever. However, she knew she needed to stay and finish listening to the older woman's explanations. There was still so much Hermione wanted to ask her about. "Why did Fate pick me?" she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice even.

"You are her vision of perfection, like I said," Apolline explained patiently. "It is a mystery even to us how Fate works. All we know is that it chooses based on the stability the person and their personality has to offer us. For the past five years, you have been the one constant in Fleur's life, the one thing she could always turn to in her darkest times. You accept her for _who_ she is and not _what_ she is, though at the present time, she might have some doubts about that."

While Hermione thoroughly enjoyed hearing such nice things from another's perspective, she could not quite grasp the significance of it. "I'm not sure what you mean," she said honestly, her eyes resting on Apolline's face. She glanced quickly at Gabrielle, wondering if she was going to speak at all. "Yes, I'm those things for her, but other people can offer her that as well." She thought of Matthew when she said this and quickly expelled the image of him from his mind.

Apolline chuckled and leaned back in her chair, draping her arm over the armrest. "Not like you, they cannot. Fate has _magically_ bound you and my daughter together, and that kind of bind is more powerful than anything you know. Fleur would be hard pressed to find another quite like you." Rubbing a finger over her eyebrow, she moistened her lips, preparing for a different approach. "If Fleur is ever angry, ever upset, _you_ are the only one who has the power to relax her emotions to human resemblance. Veela anger is unnatural and not like anything you have ever seen. Fleur hasn't an idea how terrible or painful our wrath can feel." Apolline gazed grimly at the brunette, expressing through her eyes just how horrible it was. "You have saved her from that. Her emotions are extreme and they fluctuate greatly, but such is the life of a Veela. There are some things that can't be stopped, but you alone have the power to stabilize the worst of it."

It made sense in Hermione's mind now and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. She could not let herself think about it at the current moment, however, and stored it away in the back of her mind for future contemplation. "So you're saying the magical tie Fate has connected Fleur and me with gives me the power to stabilize her emotions to a more human capacity?" she asked slowly for clarification.

"That is correct."

"But what does that have to do with love?"

Apolline gave her a disbelieving look. "Hermione, it has everything to do with love," she said, as if it were abundantly obvious. "Love was what drew you together, allowed you to play the role of unwavering best friend through your childhood until you were ready to enter a relationship. The connection flows both ways, you are not only the person for her; she is the person for you as well. You two complete one another in more ways than you can imagine."

"For years, Mother and I have wondered if you were Fleur's Chosen," said Gabrielle, speaking for the first time. "She never stopped talking about you during breaks, even in your first years. There was always a certain spark of happiness in her eyes whenever she spoke of you, this fondness and affection that made us wonder."

The corners of Hermione's mouth rose into a tiny smile and she stared at the table cloth once again, as though displaying any form of happiness would be inappropriate. "How did you know I was her Chosen?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Tossing her hair back, Gabrielle smiled in reminiscence. "She did not know it, but I kept an eye on the moment I stepped into Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. The way she looked at you, Hermione…" she laughed, the gentle sound like a song in the brunette's ears. "I do not know how you remained so oblivious. She was so clearly in love with you, even back then."

"Is there really any reason for me to suspect my best friend is in love with me?" Hermione asked defensively, not pleased at how Gabrielle was undermining her sense of perception. She had seen the way Fleur looked at her, but she had always looked at her that way; it was nothing out of the ordinary. Quite frankly, Hermione enjoyed the attention, and the way it made her feel, too much to allow herself to ruin it by thoughts of romance.

Gabrielle nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose not," she agreed. "But it was only after the Yule Ball when I knew without a doubt you were her Chosen."

"Because she had that panic attack over Viktor and me," Hermione stated, gazing absently at Mrs. Weasley's clock perched in the dish rack. Fleur had explained to her what happened a few nights ago. It made sense though, her girlfriend's complete emotional breakdown. "It was her Veela blood that caused such a severe reaction," she said knowingly, before Gabrielle could explain. "I understand how it works now." She smiled at the older girl. "She was glad that you began to acknowledge her again after that." With remorse, Hermione wondered if Fleur would find it in herself to forgive her family.

Offering a stiff smile, Gabrielle leaned back in her chair and said no more, no doubt wondering the same thing.

"Can you explain the thrall now please?" Hermione requested, wanting to move away from the topic of Chosen, as she understood it now. She understood the role she played in Fleur's life and its significance. It surprised her how unfazed she was by the news. Perhaps it was because they were in a relationship, but Hermione was more than happy to perform the part Fate had given her. She was not afraid of it.

Mother and daughter exchanged a knowing look, as though they had been waiting for the question to be brought up, and Hermione felt slightly irritated by it. "The thrall is quite simple to understand," Apolline began. "All female Veela reach womanhood at the age of fourteen, which is when their thrall goes into effect."

Hermione nodded absently, her mind slipping back in time to their first day as fourth years when most of the male population of Hogwarts seemed to become enraptured by Fleur. "I remember," she said. "But how come it never affected me or our friends? What about Matthew?"

"Chosen are unaffected," Apolline said breezily, "as are a Veela's closest friends. The ones who care deeply about her are granted immunity to the thrall. Heterosexual girls as well," she added as an afterthought, "they remain immune also."

Her thoughts flashed back to Lavender Brown, and Hermione briefly entertained the idea that perhaps she was under Fleur's thrall. Maybe it would explain her dislike for the brunette. She never understood why Lavender was always so rude to her.

"As for Matthew, there is no doubt that he fell under Fleur's thrall in the beginning. However, as soon as began to deeply care about her, the thrall wore off, granting him immunity."

Hermione had overheard Lavender telling a fellow Gryffindor how Fleur's and Matthew's relationship began, and she was visited with the heart twisting image of a mindless and drunk Matthew making out with an unsuspecting, but equally as drunk, Fleur in an empty bedroom. The thought of it stung so much that she had to battle another surge of tears.

"Why do I fall under Gabrielle's thrall whenever Fleur's in the room?" she asked, desperate to distract herself. "In my research, it said that there are exceptions to the thrall among siblings, but it never explained what it was."

"Ah, yes," Apolline nodded thoughtfully, "another matter that is quite simple to understand. And if you read the book Kieran," Hermione and Gabrielle stiffened at the name, "has given her, it will explain it much more thoroughly. As a Chosen you remain unaffected by any Veela's thrall, but it still exists, it still wraps around their aura. You are only affected when Fleur is in the room because of Blood Reflection." She paused, waiting to see if Hermione knew what it was. When all she received was a blank stare, she continued. "Fleur and Gabrielle have the same blood pumping through their veins, and their blood type is what causes the thrall in the first place…Veela blood type," she added when Hermione gave her a confused look. "Their blood acts as a mirror and their thrall is reflected back and forth. Since you are _Fleur's_ Chosen, the thrall settles on Gabrielle twice as strong, causing you to be affected and temporarily tainting your magical tie with Fleur, which makes her vulnerable to irrational emotion."

"Blood Reflection…" Hermione repeated, carefully running the words through her mind. "And it sparks Fleur's irrationality?" When Apolline nodded, she slipped back into thought. It would explain why Fleur had been so upset with her when Gabrielle was in the room, but had forgiven her so quickly when they reached Ginny's room. "But why isn't Bill affected by Fleur's thrall then?" She recalled several occasions when Fleur and Bill interacted when Gabrielle was around, and he seemed himself.

Shrugging breezily, Apolline unconsciously straightened the table cloth as Hermione pulled it out of place with her fiddling. "The thrall wears off when you are older, usually by early twenties. The potion I have created for you will suffice until then."

"What is the potion?" Hermione asked, going off the older woman's words. "It smelled like Fleur."

"In a way, that is exactly what it is—her essence in a vial. But you do not need to know the specifics," Apolline said, waving her hand dismissively. "The properties of the potion are an ancient Veela secret."

Nodding slowly, Hermione understood her tone and did not pursue the matter. However, she wondered if that was what Gabrielle's potion was; her essence in a vial, and why it had such a sexual effect on Fleur. She did not very much appreciate the purpose of the gift, and was a mixture offended and embarrassed that that was how Gabrielle perceived her.

"What does the locket do?" she asked suddenly, remembering the thin silver oval. Searching the kitchen floor with her eyes, she found the necklace glimmering beautifully where Fleur had thrown it. "And what does a Veela feel that's so different from a full-blood human?"

Apolline sighed and slumped down in her seat several inches, appearing exhausted. Hermione's heart tugged in sympathy and she quickly tried to shove it down. She had not forgotten what they had just done to Fleur, and though her head was reeling from all this new information, she knew she had to find her girlfriend as soon as possible. Fleur was still out there, she thought, biting down nervously on her lip.

"If you were anybody else, I would answer those questions," the older woman smiled. "But you are a Chosen, therefore—"

"Fleur and I will have to discover it on our own," Hermione interrupted, nodding in understanding. She had caught Apolline's subtle hint earlier about their relationship. Whatever the locket was, it was somehow connected to the act of making love, as was the core of the Veela heritage, which was why they had chosen today to confess their lies. It wasn't their desire to tell Hermione about the thrall or being Chosen; it was a warning for the first time they made love, which was bound to happen eventually.

"Correct," Apolline confirmed. "All I can tell you now is that the locket is a material representation of a Veela's love." She looked at Gabrielle, flicking her eyes towards the shimmering staircase. "Remove the barrier now." Standing up from the table, she faced the brunette, who followed her lead and climbed out of her chair as well. "Gabrielle tells me Fleur found you a Visiting Mirror?" Hermione nodded mutely. "Go and find her now, make sure she is safe."

Needing no further persuasion, Hermione rushed forward, pausing only to scoop the locket up in her hand and pocket it. By the time she reached the stairs, the barrier was gone and Gabrielle was standing up, moving next to her mother and placing a comforting hand on her back. A twinge of sympathy surged through the brunette's chest and she looked away from the sad sight.

"Hermione, there is one last thing," Apolline declared.

With one foot on the first step, Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "What is it?" She needed to find Fleur now; Apolline's constant interruptions of this were beginning to wear thin.

"Fate has binded you and my daughter together," she gazed grimly at her, "but you are not invincible to the trials of a regular relationship."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Leaning into Gabrielle's body for support, Apolline gave her a serious look. "While nothing can break the tie between a Veela and their Chosen, it is not uncommon for them to be torn apart by whatever circumstances. A bind does not automatically mean a lifetime of happiness, though I must admit," she smiled, her eyes glazing over reminiscently, "it does mean a lifetime of love." Her expression hardened. "But if that love is not nurtured, you will both feel nothing but pain."

Hermione jerked her head, acknowledging that she heard the words, but said nothing. Instead, she faced forward and continued up the stairs, more desperate than ever to get to Fleur. She would think about Apolline's last words when there was time, but as of right now it was unimportant.

"Hermione, what's going on downstairs?" Ginny asked the second the brunette stepped into the room. "Mum's gone and told all of us not to go to the kitchen until one of you came back up. Where's Fleur?" She glanced over the other girl's shoulder as though she expected Fleur to follow her in.

Shaking her head dismissively, Hermione avoided her eye and moved straight towards her camp bed, not even noticing that someone had disposed of the abundant amount of wrapping paper. "Not now, Ginny," she said impatiently.

Spotting the Visiting Mirror where she left it on the bed, she lifted it up with her left hand and drew out her wand with the other. Apolline's image had disappeared from earlier and Hermione briefly wondered if the silent video vanished after a certain amount of time. Shoving that thought aside, she tapped the tip of her wand against the mirror's surface. "Fleur Delacour," she stated clearly, and watched as ripples interrupted the glass.

Her heart gave an agonizing twist when she saw where Fleur was. Feeling her legs tremble, she dropped down on the bed and gazed mutely at the framed glass in her hand. Fresh tears stung her eyes and she rapidly blinked them away, thankful that her back was facing Ginny. Taking several deep breaths, she placed the mirror carefully on her pillow with shaking hands and stood up. At least she knew where she needed to go now.

"I'll see you later, Ginny," she said hollowly, keeping her back to the other girl.

Immediately on her feet, Ginny stared at her back with concern. "Hermione, what's wrong?" She glanced towards the door, wondering if this had anything to do with the brunette's girlfriend. "Where's Fleur?" she asked.

Pointing a limp finger at the pillow, Hermione was out the door the second Ginny moved to take a closer look at the mirror.

"Oh…" Ginny whispered, staring down at the moving image. She glanced worriedly at the door, hoping that Hermione would be all right, and angry that Fleur would do such a thing. Why the blonde was even at Matthew's house was anyone's guess; but why was she was lying half on top of him with her face resting on his chest while he tenderly stroked her hair? It was no wonder Hermione had sounded so empty.

* * *

"That's intense," Matthew said, unconsciously running his thick fingers through Fleur's silky hair as she told him what happened. "And hard to wrap my head around. I can't believe they waited this long to tell you."

Smiling softly against his chest, Fleur tightened her arm around his torso and breathed a sigh of relief. "You don't think it's disgusting, me being half Veela?" she asked cautiously, wanting to make sure he was really okay with it.

"Of course not," Matthew said kindly. He spent a silent moment continuing to run his fingers through her hair. "But you do, don't you?" He asked it as a question, but they both knew he meant it as a statement.

Fleur did not say anything and simply basked in the comfort Matthew's strong arms offered her. She was not sure how to explain things without bringing her relationship with Hermione into the conversation. Now was not the right time for that. "I can't help it," she finally admitted. "I've said so many cruel and horrible things to people out of anger. To know that it was the _animal_ blood inside me that caused it…" she trailed off, hoping Matthew would understand what she was saying.

"Veela aren't animals, Fleur," he said, keeping his gentle tone, "they're human beings. The only difference is the type of blood they have. That's all it comes down to really: it's your blood."

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly, playing with a crease in his shirt.

Matthew thought for several long seconds, struggling to find a good explanation. "Blood pumps through the entire body and brain," he began, momentarily forgetting they were not involved anymore and grasping Fleur's hand tightly in his own, "and because Veela blood is different, it makes your body feel different things. It doesn't make you any less human, it just makes you a different kind of human."

Nodding, she felt compelled to jerk her hand away but did not want to offend the boy who was doing his best to comfort her, so she let him intertwine their fingers. "Makes sense, I suppose," she said, wishing that his chest wasn't so hard. "But Veela turn into that bird thing when they're angry, and birds are animals."

"The bird is simply the representation of their emotions. It's what we all look like on the inside when we're angry. The only difference is that Veela show it." Using his thumb, he caressed the back of her hand. "Anyway, a person with that kind of beauty needs to have a dark side."

Chuckling, Fleur carefully pulled her hand away and tapped his bicep with her fingertips. "Can you please stop making sense now?"

Smiling widely, Matthew prodded her shoulder. "Why, is making you feel better?" he asked playfully.

Fleur shifted her body, moving further on top of him to get into a more comfortable position. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing, and resumed stroking her hair. "How long have we been talking for?" she asked quietly.

"Dunno, half an hour maybe," he responded, glancing at his watch.

Sighing, Fleur bit her bottom lip. "For this entire time you've made more sense than…" she trailed off, realizing that she was about to bring Hermione into this.

"Then who?" he asked curiously.

"No one," she said dismissively.

Gazing out the window, Matthew saw flakes the size of quarters falling from the sky. He took a deep breath and stilled his hand, resting it on the small of Fleur's back. "We both know you're talking about Hermione," he said slowly.

"If you already knew, then why'd you ask?" she asked, trying to sound casual, though her insides had erupted with panic.

"I wanted to see if you would tell me." There was something in his voice that gave Fleur the impression he knew more than he was letting on.

"Oh…sorry," she responded dumbly, not sure what else to say. Fleur was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, like coming here was a big mistake, that letting Matthew wrap his arms around her just because he was familiar comfort was something she should have stopped.

Matthew sighed. "If you wanted Hermione, why didn't you just stay at the Burrow?" he asked with an unreadable tone.

"She betrayed me," Fleur said.

"No she didn't," he disagreed, shaking his head.

A surge of annoyance ran through her body and she quickly tried to suppress it. Matthew didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of one of her moods. Nobody did. "She knew about my heritage and she didn't tell me, she guarded my family's secrets. Sounds like betrayal to me," she defended.

"It wasn't her place to say anything."

Deep down Fleur knew he was right. If Hermione had chosen not to tell her, there had to be a logical reason behind it, as the brunette always told her everything. However, she was visited with the strong urge to deny the truth. "Maybe not, she could have at least given me some warning on what would happen today," she argued weakly.

"Why do you always do that, Fleur?" Matthew asked, his voice raising, sounding frustrated for the first.

Angling her head, she looked up and into his warm, brown eyes. "Do what?" she asked defensively, not appreciating his irritated tone.

"You always seem to push away the people who are trying to help you."

Affronted, Fleur opened her mouth to retort, but Matthew cut her off. "Hermione loves you, but you're pushing her away on some idiotic accusation of betrayal. It was your _family _that betrayed you, Fleur, not Hermione, so don't distance yourself from her because you think you're not good enough."

"That's not what I'm—"

"That's exactly what you're doing!" he interrupted, glaring down at her defiant expression. "If you don't want me to get a handle on things, don't bloody explain them to me," he said angrily. "I know what's going on between you and Hermione, okay, I'm not stupid." Fleur's eyes widened and her grip on his arm tightened. "And you think the 'animal' in you sets you beneath her somehow, which is why you're looking for a way out of it. You're accusing her of betraying you only so you can end the shame and self-loathing you're feeling for yourself."

"Matt, how did you find out?" Fleur asked, her eyes drawn to the frowning boy under her. She was listening to the words he was saying, but she was still caught on the face that he somehow knew about her and Hermione.

"Lavender and Parvati talk about it sometimes, and I've seen the way you two look at each other," he said, avoiding her eye and scowling at the ceiling. The unaddressed question of whether she had cheated on him still hung in the air. "But that doesn't matter right now. Fleur, don't push Hermione away," he begged, closing his eyes. "You need her just as much as she needs you. Don't be so selfish as to think your entire relationship is only about what _you_ feel."

All thoughts of what Lavender and Parvati said about her vanished when she heard Matthew's last statement. He was right of course, but it infuriated her that he could so blatantly accuse her of something like that. Why did people insist on shoving her flaws in her face when she already knew them? "I am _not_ being selfish," she said darkly.

"No?" Matthew said, opening his eyes and staring down at her. "Why did you come here then, to my house? Why are you lying half on top me when you _know_ she's going to use the Visiting Mirror to find you?" Fleur opened her mouth, but no words came out. "You wanted to hurt her the way she hurt you for 'betraying' you. If you weren't so bloody selfish, you would _see_ that she's already hurting the way you were. Do you think she _wanted_ to keep the secret of your heritage from you?"

Tears forming in her eyes, Fleur buried her face in Matthew's chest once again and clutched at his shirt. "Shut up," she whispered weakly, her body trembling in the strong arms he wrapped back around her. His words were tearing at her heart more then she could take. The feelings he evoked were ripping her apart more than her family's betrayal, more than Kieran's abuse. Matthew was killing her with his words.

"Don't ever blame your actions on your Veela blood because that is _not_ the cause of it." He pulled the sobbing Fleur tighter into his arms, stroking her back soothingly. "It's _you_, Fleur, it's all on you. You used to blame your cruel actions and words on your emotions and now you're blaming them on your heritage. Not once did you ever stop to think that it was your lack of self-control and self-involvement to your feelings alone that had you acting so cold."

Clenching his eyes shut, Matthew allowed tears to fall from his remorseful eyes and onto his pillow. "You're always looking for an easy way to suffer the consequences of your actions, you always seek out and blame everything that goes wrong about you on other people." His breath hitched, but his voice remained strong. "You think you can do whatever you want, regardless of who it hurts, because it's what _you_ feel like doing. It's okay to say something to cruel because you were only acting out of anger; it's okay for you to completely disrespect the woman who gave you life all because she waited sixteen years to confess your heritage. You're sorry after you've calmed down a bit, so what's the problem, right? Well it doesn't work that way. Don't think that just because you feel everyone is better than you that you're entitled to say whatever you want."

Fleur's nails dug deep into his ribcage and he bit back the pain. She had long since broken, he knew, but she needed to hear this. "Well I've got something to tell you, Fleur: you are on the same exact plane as everyone else, you are equal to them. You're not beneath them, you're _equal_ to them. You don't understand how much your words and actions hurt other people, _because_ they view you as an equal, they value what you have to say and the second you disregard their feelings, it hurts them more than you know. You rarely take responsibility for your actions, choosing instead to hide behind the walls of your emotions and heritage, and blame others."

Clutching at Matthew's chest, Fleur's entire body writhed with agonizing sobs. "Why are you saying all this?" she rasped, beating his chest with a weak fist. Her insides, everything she was feeling, it had snapped; she didn't know what to do with herself anymore. "It hurts, Matt, everything hurts!" She cried out, digging her fingertips into his ribcage again. Fleur couldn't stand herself anymore; she wanted out of her skin. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she apologized desperately, praying that this would somehow relieve some of her pain. It didn't.

Matthew's stomach jerked as a fresh wave of tears fell from his eyes. "I know, Fleur, I know," he said, his heart twisting with agony. "But you need to hear this."

"Why?" she exclaimed. "Matt, make it stop, it hurts too much!" Squirming uncontrollably, Fleur dry-heaved as her sobs had become so intense. "I just want it stop!" Nothing had ever caused her to feel such unbearable anguish; not even Hermione's rejection the year before.

"You can make it stop," he said quietly, gazing at the ceiling with tortured eyes. "You just need to let Hermione in; she's the only one that can help you anymore." His chest was wet from Fleur's tears and his body ached from having her on top of him. However, he barely noticed these small discomforts. Fleur needed to hear the one thing that was most painful for him to say.

"She's seen your flaws, Fleur; she's lived through, suffered, dealt with, and accepted every single one of them. And her love for you has never wavered, not even once. How many people do you have like that in your life?" He shook his head. "There is not one other person who has accepted you entirely for who you are and loved you for it. Hermione's the one for you, Fleur." Staring at the figure that had just entered the room, Matthew's heart cracked. "She's always been there for you, always been willing to help you, just like she'll help you through this. She's seen your darkest sides, been victim to it more than her fair share, and she still continues loves you."

Hermione slowly approached the bed, gazing at her writhing girlfriend with anguish. Holding up his index finger, Matthew silently told her to wait.

"Your flaws are killing you, Fleur, not your Veela heritage. Hermione's the only one who can help you change it, change yourself into someone you love, someone you don't feel so ashamed of being. Maybe one day you'll see in yourself what she's always seen in you."

Fleur's body still squirmed with unbearable agony but it was lessening slightly. Matthew's words offered the blissful comfort she could only dream of; a calm spirit. "I can't do it," she sobbed. "I've done too much, I've said so many things."

"You can't take back the past, Fleur, but you can work on a brighter future." With closed eyes, he caressed the blonde's back comfortingly. "It won't be easy but with Hermione by your side," he looked directly into the brunette's eyes, "you can do anything. You just need to let yourself."

"Where is she? Matt, where is she?" Choking, her body jerked and she continued to sob uncontrollably. Fleur had never needed Hermione more in her life than at that moment, but what was taking her so long to get there? Had she seen her with Matthew in the Visiting Mirror and decided Fleur didn't need her? Her chest gave another unendurable lurch of agony. "I fucked up and hurt her again, she's not coming! I shouldn't have come here, you were right, I knew she would see us!" She hardly recognized the voice coming from her mouth; it sounded so childlike and high pitched, an incoherent mess. "I need her, Matt, I need her so fucking badly!"

Hermione opened her mouth to announce her presence, and looked a mixture of distressed and furious when Matthew gave her a sharp look to stay silent. "Are you willing to change, Fleur? Are you willing to forgive your mum and sister? Your father? You need to be capable of forgiveness before you can change, or it will all be in vain. Grudges are a source of rage that your Veela blood _will_ feed off of."

Nodding vigorously, Fleur buried her face deeper into his chest. "I want to change, I need to change," she cried desperately. "I'm so tired of hurting, I don't want to hurt anyone else! I deserved the abuse from my dad." She clutched his shirt so tightly that her nails reopened the marks in her hand. "He still loves Mum, I knew he still loved her when I said those things. It was so bad, Matt, I hurt him so much!" Her eyes were clenched so tight that it hurt. "He let me go to Hogwarts because he loves her and he loves me, but I turned it against him, made him feel guilty about it. I was so angry…god, what the fuck is wrong with me?" Mixed with her remorse was a tiny feeling of relief; she had been holding that in for so long, locked it away as one of her secrets never to confess. Fleur hoped that with her honesty, Hermione might arrive.

"You're going to change that, Fleur," he said gently, nodding his head at the brunette, silently confirming that she could make her presence known. "Hermione will help you."

Fleur always wondered what it would be like to be insane, always wondered what it would feel like. Now she wished she never had. If going insane meant the emotional torture akin to what she was feeling, she wanted no part of it. All she wanted was Hermione; the older girl always kept her safe, kept her grounded. "Where is she?" Fleur croaked.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Hermione reached forward and gently touched the younger girl's arm. "I'm right here, Fleur," she said, her voice sounding much lower than usual. "I'm right here."

Fleur's eyes snapped open and she turned her head around to face her teary eyed girlfriend. "Oh my god," she whispered. Propelling herself out of Matthew's arms, she collapsed against Hermione and felt the other girl wrap her in a warm embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably. Fleur had never been more relieved to see her in her entire life.

"It's okay, Fleur, I'm here. Everything's going to be okay now." Placing a tender kiss on the blonde's head, Hermione willed the tears in her eyes to away.

"I'm so sorry," she cried into the older girl's neck. "I'm sorry I hurt you, I shouldn't have come here." Everything Matthew had said about her had been right, and for the first time she felt motivated to change. She needed to fix herself and her stabilize her emotions before she completely destroyed herself. It seemed that people saw in her what she wouldn't allow to see in herself. Fleur didn't hate herself for being half-Veela, she hated herself because of the person she was. She hated how her emotions always bested her caused her to say inexcusable things. Discovering her heritage had only given her something to blame it on, given her other people to blame it on. In her desperate attempt to feel better about herself, she hurt the ones she loved.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Hermione whispered consolingly in her ear. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she responded, desperately clinging to the shred of warmth in her chest at the other girl's words. "You're going to help me right? I mean, how much were you here for?" Her sense of coherency had returned, and even though she was still on an emotional overdrive, exhaustion was beginning to weigh her down, make her numb. But it was okay; Hermione would take care of her.

Nodding, Hermione glanced at Matthew, who was staring impassively at his socks. "I heard enough." She smiled softly, kissing the younger girl's head again and inhaling the fruity smell of her shampoo. "And do you even need to ask me that?"

Fleur's snort turned into an almost hysterical laugh. Lifting her head up, she gazed at Hermione, noting the unshed tears and expression of protectiveness and affection. "Just thought I'd check." Offering her a lopsided grin, she averted her eyes, feeling self-conscious of her puffy-eyed, wet appearance. "I look like a troll gone for a swim, don't I?" she joked embarrassedly.

Bringing up a sleeve of her periwinkle blue jumper, Hermione began to tenderly dry the blonde's face. "You look beautiful," she whispered so sincerely that Fleur's chest tugged pleasantly, replacing the insufferable agony and remorse.

Licking her lips, Fleur tasted the remains of salty tears. Hermione should have been the one she turned to for help; she shouldn't have pushed her away. "I am sorry I came here," Fleur repeated her earlier apology. "You're the one I should've turned to for help, I'm sorry I pushed you away."

Shaking her head softly, Hermione raised the corner of her mouth into an affectionate smile and smoothed a strand of tousled blonde hair behind Fleur's ear. "You panicked and didn't know what to do," Hermione said forgivingly. "Logic and panic don't mix well together. I completely understand why you ran, and I already knew you would try to push me away, so I wasn't too worried." Her eyes darted towards Matthew, who turned away as soon he saw her looking. "Please don't be sorry that you came here because I'm not."

Fleur wasn't sure what she had wanted to hear but Hermione's words were making her feel even worse. "Why do you always forgive me so quickly?" she asked miserably.

"Because I love you," she said without missing a beat. Reaching forward, cupped the blonde's cheek in her cool hand. "And everyone is entitled to make mistakes."

Staring dejectedly at the other girl's chin, Fleur wished Hermione would stop being so understanding. She, herself, always used her anger as a firing tool; why had no one ever done the same to her? It wasn't like she didn't deserve it. "Continuous mistakes are unacceptable," she whispered vaguely.

Hermione leaned her forehead against hers and slid her hand down to cup her neck. "I love _you_, Fleur, whether you make continuous mistakes or not. It's part of your charm anyway." Smiling softly, kissed her cheek. "But if you want to change that, then I'm here for you. Like always."

Nodding, Fleur buried her face in Hermione's neck again. "I want to change," she said sincerely. "I don't want to hurt anyone else."

"Good." Inhaling the sweet scent of the blonde's hair, Hermione smiled tenderly. "But the first thing you need to do is stop hurting yourself. Don't ever be afraid of who you are."

* * *

A/N: I hope my explanation of th Veela heritage satisfied everyone's curiosity. If there's anything I left out or that you're just curious about, let me know and I'll address it later. I was iffy on the direction of this chapter. Originally, I planned a short-lived break up for Hermione and Fleur, but I think having Matthew confront Fleur so blatantly and having Hermione there just in time to pick up the pieces was a better approach. Especially because of the 'Chosen' explanation. Please let me know if I made the right choice in that. Also, I know I didn't include any memories in this chapter, but I figured it was already long enough. I'll make up for it in the next one though.

A big thanks to my reviewers! Hope you enjoyed this installment!


	15. Chapter 15

The common room was deserted when Fleur returned from the Owlery after breakfast. Moving further inside, she craned her neck to see if Hermione was sitting on one of the obscured armchairs. When she didn't find her, she shrugged it off and lied down on the couch in front of the fireplace, blindly reaching for the book on the table behind her.

Fleur had spent a lot of time reading over the past few days. After everything that happened on Christmas, she decided not to return to the Burrow, but to spend the rest of break at Hogwarts. It took about an hour for the Ministry to restore the Floo connection to the castle, and when she and Hermione, who gave no second thought on accompanying her, finally arrived at their dormitory, the brunette immediately launched into the explanation of Fleur's Veela heritage, which 'Half-Breeds of Europe and North America, Volume 3: Veela solidly reinforced.

The idea that Fate picked Hermione as her Chosen was the least surprising news she had received that day, and she merely smiled and snuggled deeper into her girlfriend's arms, trying to ignore that insistent, but familiar, sense of dull anger; if Apolline had confessed the truth of Fleur's heritage sooner, she would have been spared the agonizing heartache of Hermione's rejection. However, if she wanted to change, then she would need to learn to pick her battles. What was done was done, and there was nothing she could do to change it. Later, when she felt less angry with her mother, she would owl her and calmly ask what her reasoning was.

As for Hermione, she had no problem being magically tied to her. Fleur spent many quiet hours visiting memories of their past, entertaining herself with the thought that through everything they had been through, they were always destined to be together.

_Fleur grinned happily when she caught sight of Hermione sitting cross-legged on the floor with an enormous book open on her lap. "You told me to meet you here?" she said, stepping fully inside the Room of Requirement and shutting the door quietly behind her. "It's a quarter to eight and I'm finally here." Skipping across the D.A. styled room she stopped right in front of the brunette and stared down, fiddling with the ends of her undone tie. _

_Hermione tilted her head up and gave her a quizzical look. "I didn't tell you to meet me here," she stated, frowning as she tried to recall asking the blonde to meet her before their D.A. meeting. _

"_Well no," Fleur admitted, shrugging her right shoulder and grinning lopsidedly. "But I missed you," she said seriously, her heart tugging pleasantly when Hermione smiled softly and looked away. _

_A moment later, she craned her neck upwards again, appearing composed. "You saw me at dinner," she pointed out. "And can you please sit down? My neck is going to cramp."_

"_That was two hours ago, and two hours is far too long to go without seeing my amazing best friend," Fleur said while moving to sit down. Ignoring the look of on the other girl's face, she continued. "And I'm a growing girl, so my rapidly increasing height will soon cause you neck cramps even while you're standing."_

"_I look forward to it," she responded dryly. _

_Shaking her head in mock disappoint, the blonde looked at Hermione, amused. "I always knew you were a masochist, but I won't permit you to use _me _as an excuse to hurt yourself."_

"_How am I a masochist?" the older girl exclaimed, ignoring the last part of Fleur's sentence. _

_Several reasons for possible masochism flew through the blonde's mind; the amount of school work Hermione took on was one, as well as the ingrained desire to do everything the 'correct' way when there might have been an easier method to do things. However, Fleur did not truly believe her a masochist. If anything, she, herself, was one; torturing herself by not telling Hermione how she felt, but she was used to it by now. Better to keep her feelings a secret than ruin their four year friendship. _

There were countless days when Fleur would wake up in the morning and tell herself she couldn't take it anymore; either she needed to tell Hermione how she felt or end their friendship where it was because it was eating away slowly at her heart. However, as soon as the brunette would get out of bed and wish her a groggy "good morning," she realized she couldn't do either. Fleur could not imagine life without Hermione in it. Even during breaks, when the other girl wasn't constantly around, she felt like there was a hole in her chest, a hole that only Hermione could fill.

If she had known about her Veela heritage, it would have erased all the self-doubt and pain she felt over the years because of her. Fleur would have known in a heartbeat that Hermione was her Chosen because of the way she made her feel. The brunette was the one person in her life that she didn't feel she had to prove herself to, that made her feel good about herself. She had been terrified of losing the only person to ever make her feel alive, because if she lost that she would have no one.

In the end, she did lose that, lost the one positive constant in her life, which plunged her into a world of depression, hatred, and anger. Her hatred and anger was openly fired towards other people, but she knew it was a way to feed her own self-loathing. She _wanted_ to feel the pain caused by being a horrible person, and targeting Hermione had been the worst; it had the most excruciating effect on her, sparking a self-hatred so deep that McGonagall had sent her to the Hospital Wing several times for Sleep Assist potion, as she would go many days in a row without sleeping, dwelling on every wrong she had ever done and feeding off the way it made her feel.

"_What the hell is wrong with you, Fleur?" a teary-eyed Hermione asked furiously._

_Indescribable rage tore through the blonde's chest at her words, and she found herself cornering the other girl against the wall, her eyes flashing dangerously. The corridor was dead silent by this point, as the dozens of students around had stopped to watch the spectacle curiously, with most people wondering what had triggered the fight between the two best friends. Fleur was hardly aware of their attention and didn't care that they were causing a scene._

"You're_ what's wrong with me!" she shouted violently, accentuating it by slapping her hand against the cold, stone wall next to the other girl's head. Ignoring Hermione's flinch and the stinging pain in her palm, she glared. "I fucking _hate_ you!"_

_The first tears fell from Hermione's wounded eyes, and Fleur felt a little piece of heart tear away. Swallowing hard, she leaned forward until her face was only inches away from the other girl's. "We're done, Hermione," she hissed viciously. "Our friendship is fucking over!" Pulling back, she registered the look of horror on the brunette's face and felt a sick sense of satisfaction. _

"_What happened to you?" Hermione whispered miserably, her eyes thick with tears._

_Sneering, Fleur stepped back and looked carefully up and down the other girl's body. "I just realized what a selfish, arrogant, hypocritical whore you are is all," she snarled, her eyes black with the hatred she, herself, had invented. "How can I associate myself with someone like that? Might rub off."_

"_You're horrible," Hermione choked, edging away from the enraged girl. _

"_Let me know when you finally let Ron touch you," she responded, an insane glint appearing in her eyes. "When he fucks you, I promise, it'll be the best thing you ever felt. Unless…" She tilted her head and stared with mock-pensiveness at the ceiling. "Unless he rapes you." Hermione looked appalled, which only encouraged her to continue. "Boys lusting after whores get a bit impatient you know." _

_Hermione's palm flew out of nowhere, connecting with the blonde's cheek. Excited whispers rippled the silence from the onlookers. Reeling back, Fleur was stunned that she felt no accompanying pain with the slap and was momentarily fearful, afraid of what it meant. _

"_You're disgusting, Fleur!"_

_Smirking, the blonde shrugged airily and took a step back, grabbing the restroom door handle and going inside. Pressing her back against the wooden frame, Fleur slid down until she was sitting on the floor. Her entire body was trembling as she raged an internal war to hold back the army of tears. With Hermione's last words still ringing in her ears, she rested her forehead on her knees, hugging her body close._

"_You really have no idea," she whispered miserably to herself. _

Fleur knew that losing Hermione's friendship had been her own fault, but she had only recently admitted to herself that the following depression was her own fault as well. She could take the blame for losing her, but then she blamed the girl for making her feel so horrible. The blonde realized the way she was _now_ had everything to do with last year, and that it was entirely her own fault. It was unbearable to even think about.

"You're back," came the voice of a pleased Hermione.

Torn out of her thoughts, Fleur looked up and grinned at the brunette, who was leaning over the top of the couch, peering down at her. "Hey," she greeted warmly. "So I finally sent my dad that letter."

Moving around the couch, Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Fleur. "How do you think he'll take it?" she asked, taking the blonde's free hand in her own and caressing the back with her thumb.

Fleur shrugged, her shoulders pushing uncomfortably against the arm of the couch. "I don't know…I have been ignoring him for the past three months." It had taken all week, but she finally composed a letter to Kieran, expressing her apologies for her summer words and extending a tentative forgiveness for his abuse, as long as he replied to the letter with a reasonable explanation on why he had abused her. Also, she requested an exact account on what had happened between him and Apolline when she was six. Her mind was on overdrive, trying to fathom what could have happened between them that ripped them apart, even through their magical bind.

"But you finally read that letter he sent you and it said that he knew you weren't ready to talk to him yet."

On their second day back, Fleur had torn open the letter Kieran sent her at the beginning of the month and read its contents. It was not a plea for forgiveness he sent; it was a warning for Christmas day, a warning not to push Hermione away because she would need her more than ever. At the end of the letter, he acknowledged the fact that Fleur wanted nothing to do with him but that he would always be there if she needed him.

She wasn't entirely sure what she thought of the letter, but it was definitely Kieran's way not to ask for something he knew he didn't deserve. However, that didn't mean she would withhold her forgiveness; she needed to move on from the experience if she wanted to change, like Matthew had said, and she wouldn't be able to move on if she knew Kieran was killing himself over his one moment of weakness.

"I think physical abuse merits some pessimism, so can you please let me be pessimistic?" she asked, somewhat jokingly.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "Fleur, he deserves nothing from you. You hurt him, yes, but that does _not_ give him any reason to hit you." She had been entirely against the younger girl offering any kind of forgiveness to her abuser, however, she understood why Fleur doing so, which was why she stepped back and let the blonde handle it her own way.

"Like father like daughter," Fleur whispered, staring up at the high ceiling and finding comfort in the warm circles Hermione was rubbing on the back of her hand.

"You've never hit anyone."

"I've wanted to though," she said, recalling every single time when she lost it and began smashing things in an attempt to distract herself from breaking the face of the person she so desperately wanted to hit.

Hermione sighed and climbed to her feet. "That's the difference between you and him that you're not seeing," she said, gently lowering herself onto Fleur's body and resting her head in the crook of her neck, "no matter how angry you become, you _never_ physically lash out at the object of your emotion." Her tone sounded reminiscent and Fleur wondered if she was thinking about the few times she broke things as a way to relieve her rage.

Threading her fingers through Hermione's wavy locks, she closed her eyes. "Whatever, Hermione, can we please not talk about this right now?" she pleaded. Fleur wanted the subject changed; they had talked so much about Kieran those past few days that their conversations were beginning to repeat. In her opinion, there was no point talking about such a sore topic if all it was going to do was upset them both.

"What do you want to talk about then?" Hermione asked, acknowledging that the blonde did not need to hear her opinions on Kieran once again. Lightly kissing the exposed skin of Fleur's collarbone, she toyed with the creases on her shoulder and listened to the rhythmic thumping of her heart.

Fleur thought for several moments. "What are we doing tonight?"

"What do you mean?" the older girl asked, confused.

"It's December 31st, not only the last day of the year, but the last day we have our dormitory all to ourselves." Her voice had lowered into a seductive tone by the time she was finished, and her hips gave a playful thrust, indicating her implication.

Hermione grinned widely against her chest. "Well what do you want to do?" she asked coyly.

"If we were having sex, then I would say we should do that," Fleur said unabashedly, not considering the effect her words might have on her girlfriend, "but we're not, so I'll just have to settle for the next best thing." Grinning, she slipped her left hand beneath Hermione's shirt and ran her palm up and down her side. "And seeing you without a shirt had a rather nice effect on me," she added, her mind on thoughts of the previous night where Hermione had pulled her shirt off in the middle of a heated make out session.

Supporting her weight on her upper arms, Hermione moved further up the blonde's body so that their faces were level with one another. She exhaled sharply when Fleur used this as an opportunity to slide her other hand under her shirt. "Why aren't we?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Why aren't we what?" Fleur said absently, her hands inching closer and closer to the other girl's breasts. She moistened her lips and tilted her head upwards, pressing her lips soundly against Hermione's.

Hermione pulled out of the kiss before the blonde could deepen it. However, that didn't stop the journey Fleur's hands were making, and she reflexively grinded down against her thigh when the blonde cupped both breasts. "Having sex?" she struggled to say.

Eyes widening dramatically, Fleur immediately withdrew her hands from under the shorter girl's shirt and placed them on her hips. "Er, do you want to? I mean, are we ready for that?" she stumbled, feeling a wave of panic come over her.

Hermione nodded slowly, her brow twitching when she noticed how stiff Fleur became. "I think I am," she said.

"Are you really?" Fleur squeaked, looking everywhere but at Hermione, who was now giving her an understanding look.

"Yes," she said decisively. "I've been thinking a lot about it the past week."

"You have?" Fleur felt a mixture of shock and nerves; it shocked her that Hermione had been giving this more thought than usual, though she knew she shouldn't have been surprised as they had been very physical with one another that past week. It also shocked her to realize that she, herself, was not ready to take their relationship to the next level, which was why she felt so nervous; having the actual reality of a possible sex life with the girl she was in love with was nerve-wracking. Fleur always thought that sex would be one of those far off things she wouldn't need to think about until she was a little older.

"We're in love and we've been in a relationship for nearly two months…" she trailed off, looking down at the blonde, as though waiting for some kind of response. When Fleur said nothing and continued to stare at the ceiling behind her, she went on. "I think we're at that point where we should start considering it as an option."

Sighing, Fleur finally looked at Hermione's face, noticing just how serious she appeared on the matter. "And this has nothing to do with satisfying your curiosity on what the locket does?" she asked, already knowing the answer to the question. Hermione might have been frustrated at finding nothing in the library about a Veela's locket, but she wasn't _so_ curious as to mar their first time with it; not when sex was so important to her. If she said she was ready now, Fleur knew that she meant it, and the thought panicked her.

"No," Hermione firmly responded, just as she knew she would. "I love you, Fleur, more than anything, and I think this is something we can do to further express that, but," she gave the blonde a careful look, "I can tell you're not ready yet."

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Fleur looked away. "I'm sorry." On one level, she was pleased that the other girl had drawn this conclusion on her own, sparing her the awkwardness of saying it herself, but on another level, she felt guilty for not being ready. Fleur had always thought that she, herself, would be the first one ready to take their relationship to the next level, and having Hermione be the first to bring it up…it was slightly embarrassing. She couldn't help but wonder how the brunette was always so ready for new things and always wanted things to change. However, every change Hermione influenced always ended for the better. Maybe that was why she pushed things along so much; because she was confident of the expected outcome.

Shaking her head, Hermione smiled softly. "Don't be," she said sincerely. "I had a feeling you wouldn't be ready." Shrugging nonchalantly, she brought up a hand and caressed Fleur's warm cheek with her cool fingertips, gazing down at her with tender affection. "I thought it was one of those things we should probably talk about before I got carried away and ended up making a fool of myself."

"That makes sense," Fleur agreed, leaning into her girlfriend's touch. "I don't know why I'm not ready yet. I mean, it's not like I don't want you or anything. God, you have no idea what you do to me…" she trailed off quietly, thinking how just _looking_ at the other girl turned her on. Expelling those thoughts from her mind, she glanced at Hermione's amused and expression and looked away again. "I guess I just like things where they're at now, that kind of in-between of making out and sex. I am almost ready," she said truthfully, "but it's just one of those things where you can never turn back."

"And that's what you're afraid of," Hermione concluded, slowly nodding her head.

After thinking for a moment, Fleur realized that was exactly what she was afraid of. "I guess, yeah," she admitted.

"Then that's perfectly fine with me, I have no problem with where we're at right now," she said, searching for the blonde's eyes as a way to prove just how sincere she was being. When Fleur jerked her head in acknowledgement, Hermione gave her a lopsided smile. "So what is it that I do to you exactly?"

Recognizing their conversation about sex had come to an end, Fleur felt the familiar sense of comfort take over, mixed with some arousal. Her shock and nerves had stopped her from feeling that before, but now that she was relaxed, Hermione's body resting comfortably against hers had a very heated effect. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she said with an enticing smile.

"Yes, that's why I asked."

Giggling, Fleur leaned up and caught Hermione's lips with her own. Thankfully, the brunette actually tilted her head down this time so as not to strain Fleur's neck again.

They were still on the couch ten minutes later, after deeming it safe to make out in the common room, as there were only two other Gryffindors who had stayed over break, and were both still asleep (it was barely nine in the morning).

Hermione moaned quietly as Fleur flicked her thumb rapidly across her nipple under her bra, and pressed her fingers harder between the blonde's legs.

Whimpering in pleasure, Fleur sucked the other girl's bottom lip into her mouth and increased the pressure on the back of Hermione's hand, rhythmically thrusting her hips.

When Hermione's hand had drifted between her legs five minutes ago, both girls soon realized the brunette was not strong enough to rub Fleur's clit the way she liked it from the outside of her jeans, so Fleur, who was much stronger than Hermione, covered the back of her hand with her own and assisted the older girl. It wasn't enough for her to orgasm off of, unfortunately, and it left her feeling frustrated.

"Go under my pants," she mumbled into Hermione's mouth. "I can't come like this, fuck, I need to come…" Fleur's arousal was so intense that she didn't care what was coming out of her mouth, as long as it got her what she wanted.

"You sure?" Hermione asked, trailing her hungry lips down to the blonde's neck and sucking down with a bruising force. Her hips were thrusting wildly against Fleur's inclined thigh, and she was having the same trouble in not being able to climax through her jeans.

"Just stay on top of my underwear." She gasped as Hermione licked the rim of her ear, and she roughly palmed her breast in return.

Right as the older girl began to undo Fleur's belt, the sound of an awkward cough issued from a few feet behind the couch. Her reaction was instantaneous: she practically threw Hermione off of her (she landed on the plush rug with a painful sounding thump) and swung her hands to fix her belt. Fleur could already feel her face heating up with fierce embarrassment; she knew that cough anywhere.

"Granger, Delacour."

Her suspicions were confirmed: McGonagall was standing on the other side of the couch, and had probably just heard more than any professor ever should. Hermione looked completely mortified and frantically straightened out her clothes.

Sitting up on the couch, Fleur faced the uncomfortable woman with a bright smile on her red face. "Hi, Professor!" she said with fake enthusiasm. It would be better for everyone in the room if they pretended nothing happened. "What brings you here to the common room in such an unexpected fashion that we didn't even get a chance to clean up and make our living area presentable for our head of house?" Her lips thinned and she cursed herself for turning into a babbling idiot whenever she grew nervous.

McGonagall's eyes swept through the expanse of the spotless common room and her brow rose. "Presentable, yes…" she muttered absently before fixing her gaze on a blushing Hermione, who had just jumped to her feet. "Perhaps your dormitory would be a more suitable location for your…trysts," she said, giving them both a stern look. "I would like you both to come to my office."

They exchanged a look, both wondering the same thing: were they going to get detention for making out in the common room? Fleur somehow doubted it. McGonagall was a fair woman; she wouldn't give them detention for making out in their empty common room during Christmas break.

"How come, Professor?" she asked, shrugging at the warning look Hermione threw her for questioning a teacher's request.

"We have a new student at Hogwarts," McGonagall responded curtly. "She is a transfer from Salem Institute."

An excited smile appeared on Hermione's face, replacing her embarrassment, and she rushed to the professor's side. "She's American?" she asked.

"Yes, Granger, and she is sitting in my office right now waiting for my return." McGonagall gestured towards the portrait hole. "If you two will please accompany me…" Fleur hesitated only for a moment before following the older woman out into the castle at a brisk pace. "She was sorted into Gryffindor upon her arrival thirty minutes ago, and is the equivalent of a sixth year, like yourselves."

Fleur's long legs made it easy for her to keep pace with McGonagall; Hermione, on the other hand, was having some difficulty and she struggled to keep up. "So you want us to show her around then?" she figured out.

"Precisely. You two are to give her a tour of the castle and its classrooms, as well as make her feel at home. Hogwarts differs dramatically in environment from Salem Institute, it is quite an adjustment to make."

Falling back to be in stride with Hermione, Fleur leaned over and muttered, "How different?" She, herself, had never heard of the Salem Institute, but obviously the brunette had, as she was bubbling with excitement, much to her irritation. She didn't find the idea of a transfer student anywhere near as thrilling; they had housed two foreign schools in their fourth year after all.

"Oh, everything is different in America," she answered vaguely. Off of Fleur's annoyed look, she hastily continued. "They actually begin their magical education when they're nine-years-old and incorporate several muggle courses into their curriculum, like economics, English, and various science classes. They're also much more adept with muggle technology and have their own Wizarding version of things like computers and telephones."

Fleur nodded thoughtfully, wondering why someone would choose to come to Hogwarts after attending a school where they had muggle conveniences and received a more diverse education. "Too bad Dad and me didn't move to New York with my grandparents after the divorce," she said regretfully. "Would've been brilliant to go to Salem."

Frowning, Hermione did not respond and remained silent for the rest of the walk to McGonagall's office. Fleur did not know what the problem was until the older woman stepped into her office and Hermione grabbed her arm, stopping her from following. "What?" she asked, startled by how irritated her girlfriend looked.

"When are you going to get into your head that everything happens for a _reason_," Hermione whispered sharply, relinquishing her grip.

It took her a second to figure out what the brunette was talking about. "Oh…" she said, realizing what had her upset, and feeling horrible about it. "Hermione, I didn't mean it like that." Did the other girl honestly believe she was serious when she said going to Salem Institute would have been better? "I just really like muggle technology was all I meant."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by McGonagall. "Granger and Delacour, will you please come inside my office?" she called impatiently.

Giving Fleur one last withering look, the brunette stormed through the open door, leaving her staring guiltily at the stone wall. In everything that happened over the break, she had forgotten how sensitive Hermione could be to the things she said. Just because she forgave them and moved on didn't mean they lacked a stinging effect. It might have seemed like nothing to Fleur, just a simple declaration of what she was thinking with no intention of hurting anybody. She had to remember, however, that it did not take intent to hurt her girlfriend; Hermione became upset over a lot of things that seemed so insignificant to her, flirting with Lavender Brown for example.

It didn't matter that Fate had tied them together through a magical bind; they were still just two teenage girls in love. Fleur knew it would do nothing but hurt their relationship if they relied on their bind to hold them together. Her parents were a prime example of a severed tie, and she knew she never wanted her and Hermione to end up in that situation. Love wasn't always enough.

* * *

The stunningly attractive girl standing beside McGonagall was the first thing Hermione noticed when she stepped inside. Erasing all signs of irritation from her face, she moved forward and smiled warmly. A moment later, Fleur hurried into the room and stood next to the older girl, smiling apologetically at McGonagall and the newcomer.

"Sorry, had to tie my laces," she lied, sparing a quick glance at Hermione, who rolled her eyes in return and smiled despite herself.

McGonagall peered down at Fleur's feet and saw that her black boots did, in fact, have laces. Deciding to ignore her apology, she turned to the beautiful brunette. "This is Hermione Granger and Fleur Delacour," she introduced, gesturing at each of them as she said their name. "They are both Gryffindor sixth years, like yourself, and have volunteered to assist you around the castle. This," she turned faced them, "is Cassidy Kroeger."

Stepping forward, Hermione offered her hand. "It's nice to meet you," she smiled welcomingly, excited to have a student from Salem Institute as a permanent resident at Hogwarts. Over the years she had read as much literature as she could find on the American Wizarding school, which was a surprising amount. Salem's headmasters were much less pervasive when it came to informing the world about their school, and she was surprised to find how dramatically different it was compared to Hogwarts.

"You too," she said, shaking Hermione's hand. "And you." She jerked her head at Fleur, who smiled lopsidedly and brought up her left hand in little wave.

Glancing surreptitiously up and down the other girl's figure, Hermione executed a silent assessment. Cassidy was obviously no stranger to money; her clothing was a very wealthy, muggle style, though it had the same kind of comfortable appearance that reminded her of Fleur's choice of fashion. She was slightly taller than her; very skinny, which her impossibly tight jeans accentuated; had long and straight chestnut colored hair; and a face so innocent looking, with her round, gray-blue eyes and plush lips, that Hermione had a feeling Cassidy had perfected the art of escaping sticky situations with professors.

"Now why don't you show Ms. Kroeger where the common room is," McGonagall suggested, "and around the castle as well, perhaps." Her shoulders stiffened and she gave Fleur a very meaningful look. "I am entrusting you two to make our new student feel welcome at here."

Frowning, Fleur threw a dirty look at McGonagall when she had her back turned, and then rolled her eyes at Hermione, who smirked in return. They both knew Fleur was more prone to trouble and much more inclined to give Cassidy the wrong impression about Hogwarts.

Clapping her hands together in a comically dramatic fashion, the blonde smiled brightly. "Absolutely, Professor," she said with feigned cheerfulness. McGonagall looked warily at her over her spectacles, and Hermione had a feeling she regretted asking Fleur along. "You hungry, Cassidy?"

The brunette shrugged. "A little, I guess," she answered, glancing at Hermione, who was gazing at Fleur with an amused smile.

The professors of Hogwarts had long since accepted that their most gifted student preferred to spend her time with those who most frequently broke the rules. Fleur, however, was the biggest mystery. She did not possess any outright defiance to authority figures and, more often than not, she usually received detention for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, which gave them the wrong impression. She took a much subtler approach on relieving her irritation towards teachers than any other student, as she did not purposely seek detention. Hermione had always admired that about her.

"Well lunch isn't for another while, so we'll just take you down to the kitchens for a bit of breakfast and then we'll head up to the common room. Devin should be up by then so you can meet her—she's a fifth year." Fleur smiled pleasantly at McGonagall before leading Cassidy out of her office.

"Bye, Professor!" Hastily exiting the room, Hermione quickly caught up and walked on the brunette's other side. Her first instinct was to bombard her with questions about Salem Institute, but she knew it would be better reserved to ask later, after they got to know her a little better. She was excited at the prospect of having someone new in the castle.

"So how many other girls are in our grade—or year, I guess you guys call it," Cassidy asked, her American accent obvious for the first time. Hermione found it endearing.

"Two more other than Fleur and I," she answered, before the blonde could speak. "And there are five boys. You'll meet them tomorrow when they get back."

Cassidy nodded, moving closer to Hermione as they walked. Neither she nor Fleur noticed the dark look she threw at the blonde. "Sounds good, though your classes are kind of small," she said, smoothing a strand of silky hair behind her ear. "So what's your guys' story? Why are you here during winter break?"

Hermione and Fleur exchanged a look; they had already agreed that the happenings of Christmas morning were to remain a secret for the time being. The younger girl still had a long way to go before she was okay with everything that happened and she didn't want other people's comments to have any influence. The Weasley family and Harry knew, of course, but they promised to stay quiet.

"I had a fight with my sister and decided to leave," Fleur answered vaguely. "Hermione came with me."

"So you guys were spending break together?" she asked, glancing between the two girls with a slight frown.

Hermione immediately noticed Cassidy's furrowing brow. "Yeah, with some other friends as well," she said quickly. Catching Fleur's eye behind the new girl's shoulder, they both cast a wary look, clearly thinking the same thing.

"Fun," Cassidy nodded, her frown lessening as she accepted the response. "What's there to do here on New Year's anyway?"

Stifling a grin at her girlfriend's frustrated sigh, Hermione shook her head and shrugged. "We celebrate it as we like, there isn't anything that the professors arrange because there's so few of us left over the break."

"Sweet," she responded, pleased. "Say I transfigured a bottle of hard liquor into hair gel to get past security…" She glanced between the two, smiling uncertainly. "You guys up for it?"

Hermione pursed her lips, satisfied that her earlier judgment had been correct; Cassidy really was used to getting away with rule breaking. However, as a prefect, it was her job to prevent alcohol consumption in her house whether people liked it or not.

Nodding thoughtfully, Fleur grinned. "Yeah, that sounds like fun actually," she accepted. Catching the scowl forming on her girlfriend's face, she quickly added, "But Hermione's a prefect, so we really shouldn't put her in that sort of position."

Her scowl only deepened. It wasn't the fact that Hermione wanted to avoid a confrontation with Cassidy that had made her upset; it was Fleur's willingness to consume the beverage after what happened towards the end of last year.

_Hermione was on auto-pilot that night, letting her feet drag her on the familiar path to the common room from the library where she had spent the last four hours in a secluded corner studying for their O.W.L. exams the following week. The stress was getting to her much more than it usually did. Without Fleur around to insist she take a break and relax, she usually spent most nights studying until her mind grew numb. There wasn't much else for her to do anyway. _

_A loud moan issued from the cracked door of Flitwick's classroom as Hermione walked by. Frowning, she took two steps backwards so that she was standing right next to the entrance. Another distinctly female moan sounded and she grimaced. Hermione wondered if she should break up whatever was going on inside. It wasn't part of a prefect's duty to do so, but after a quick glance at her watch she saw that they were five minutes away from after-hours. After another pleasurable gasp sounded through the door, the slightly embarrassed brunette shook her head and decided to leave them alone. It would be an awkward experience for everyone if she barged inside and interrupted._

_Grinning slightly at her predicament, Hermione resumed walking back to the common room when the sound of someone's voice drifted out the classroom, making her stop dead in her tracks. _

"_You know, if you suck really hard it'll make a mark." _

_Her body was visited with the unpleasant feeling of being pushed into a bath of ice water. Hermione knew that voice anywhere: it was Fleur, only her words were heavily slurred, like she was drunk. And someone was clearly in the room with her._

_Forgetting her decision to go back to the common, Hermione spun around, stormed three steps forward, and slammed the door open. Terry Boot tore his lips away from Fleur's neck and jumped away from her like he'd been electrocuted. Fleur, on the other hand, didn't appear startled in the slightest; she gazed at Hermione with a blissful grin, and swayed from side-to-side from her position on Flitwick's desk. _

"_Granger, what the hell are you doing in here?" Terry asked after he realized who had barged in. A spark of fury emanated from Hermione's chest; the Ravenclaw boy sounded completely sober. _

_Opening her mouth to speak, she was caught off by Fleur. "Is that Hermione?" she slurred, squinting at the brunette, truly confounded._

_Hermione noticed a transparent bottle filled only a quarter of the way with golden liquid next to Fleur. "Where did she get alcohol?" Hermione asked, ignoring the blonde and rounding on Terry. There was that familiar feeling of jealousy she usually felt while watching Fleur interact with Lavender and Parvati, but it had never been so intense before._

_Giggling, Fleur struggled to pull herself off the desk and stumbled over to the apprehensive boy. By the dangerous look in Hermione's eyes, he seemed to understand the situation he was in; he had just been caught taking advantage of an impaired girl while he, himself, was sober. _

"_He doesn't know," the blonde mumbled. Missing his mouth, she attached her lips on his chin. Realizing her mistake, she moved upwards and kissed his lips. _

_Something tore in Hermione's chest and she looked away from the agonizing sight of watching Fleur kiss Terry, a boy she hardly even knew. The brunette was quite aware of why she felt the way she was feeling, but right now was not the time to acknowledge it. Instead, she took several steps closer until she was only a few feet away from the pair. "Come on, Fleur, we need to get you up to our dormitory," she said authoritatively, but with her gaze fixed on the floor._

_Terry wiggled his way out of the younger girl's hold and scrambled away. He gave Hermione an apologetic look. "I was walking by earlier and I heard crying inside, she was already halfway gone when I came inside. She drank another half of that," he pointed to the bottle, "and then started kissing me. I know I shouldn't have…" he trailed off, gazing at the swaying Fleur. "The things she was crying about…" Backing away slowly, he gave the brunette a meaningful look. "She's in a really bad place, Granger, really messed up."_

"_And you thought you would take advantage of that?" she hissed. Her heart broke a little when Terry told her she had been crying. Why did Fleur have to be so insufferable that she couldn't see how much Hermione cared…how much she loved her? Everything the blonde had said to her, every cruel and harsh word she had directed at her; Hermione didn't care. Every day she saw Fleur slip further and further into her world of hatred and anger…it killed her to see the other girl go through that, completely destroyed her to know that Fleur hated her so much now._

"_No!" he instantly denied. "It wasn't like that!"_

_Sharply raising a hand, Hermione cut off the defense he had prepared for himself. "Go to your common room, Terry, it's after hours now." _

_She couldn't stand the sight of him. His clothes were rumpled and his hair tousled, and knowing that _Fleur _had done that to him…something inside of her felt broken; all she wanted was to climb into bed and cry until the peaceful dawn arrived. Dawn always brought her peace, it brought her sleep. But not tonight; tonight she needed to take care of her old friend. If she was correct, Fleur would probably begin throwing up soon, and most likely spend the entire night purging her system of alcohol. _

_He didn't so much as mutter a goodbye on his way out, stumbling over the doorframe in his haste to put as much distance between himself and the classroom as possible. Hermione severely hoped that he ran into Filch or Professor Snape on his way back. _

"_He's so nice," Fleur said, knocking into a desk as she moved to stand beside her. "His lips were so nice. I hope he didn't leave a hickey, cause I don't know how to hide those." She rubbed a trembling hand over her neck, as though she would be able to feel any marks he possibly left on her. Snorting in amusement, she tripped over her feet to get to Flitwick's desk. "You know if he left a hickey that it'll be my first?" she slurred, gazing at Hermione like it was the most entertaining thing in the world to contemplate._

_Moving forward, the brunette gently took away the bottle before Fleur had the chance to take another swig. "How about we save this for when we get back to our dormitory?" she suggested, speaking in the kind tone she normally reserved for first years. Her chest burned at the taller girl's words and she suddenly realized that Terry must have been the only other person she had kissed other than her, herself._

"_But I want it now." Fleur reached out, trying to grab the bottle but ended up stumbling over and into the brunette's arms. "Oooh, you're so warm! Terry was so cold but you're so warm," she said, forgetting about the bottle and settling deeper into a stiff Hermione's arms. "Really tense though, you need to relax. Terry helped me relax before, he was so nice, and his lips felt so good."_

_The jagged knife in Hermione's heart gave a painful twist and her eyes began to sting with tears. She wasn't sure what hurt more: Fleur's constant verbal abuse or her being nice for the first time in months but speaking of the boy she drunkenly made out with. "We should go now, before someone catches us," she said, once again ignoring Fleur's words. _

"_I think we should stay," the blonde murmured, her lips grazing against Hermione's neck, who violently twitched at the contact. "Because if we go then this won't be happening."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_You won't be here if we go there," she slurred, pulling back and looking down at Hermione with miserable eyes._

"_I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione expressed, unable to make sense of her words. She could feel the pain radiating from the other girl as though it was her own and she desperately wanted to help her feel better. Hopefully an impaired Fleur would allow her to do so; a sober Fleur never would have. _

_The look of cheerfulness slid back onto the blonde's face and she smiled brightly, pressing her body more firmly against Hermione's. "Really? Cause I know I'm making perfect sense," she declared, nodding matter-of-factly. "I have a lot of sense, you know, and that's why I'm a smart person."_

_The corners of Hermione's lips twitched into her first smile of the evening. "Is that right?" she teased. Allowing her body to relax against the younger girl, she leaned back against Flitwick's desk. Even if it was alcohol induced, it felt indescribably good to have Fleur's arm wrapped around her waist. _

"_Mm hmm," Fleur confirmed, grinning widely. "My senses tell me much things, they even know that you're relaxed now." Swaying slightly, she rested her forehead against the other girl's. _

_Hermione's eyes flicked towards he blonde's half-open mouth. She desperately wanted to kiss those inviting, pink lips, but the smell of alcohol on Fleur's breath reminded her that doing anything of the sort would be wrong. That was why she turned her head away when the younger girl leaned down to kiss her. Instead, Fleur's soft lips landed on her cheek, lingering for a moment before journeying down to her neck. Gasping, Hermione gripped the blonde's arms tightly and tilted her head to allow her more room. Nothing had ever felt quite as good as having Fleur's lips trailing wet kisses along her neck before pausing to suck down hard on a particular spot. _

_Fleur giggled when she moaned loudly. "You like that," she slurred, making a statement rather than a question._

_Whimpering in response, Hermione clutched her arms tighter before gently easing her back. "You need to stop," she said breathlessly, aching to have Fleur's lips back against her skin. She couldn't allow herself to succumb though, she couldn't do that to herself or the blonde. When Fleur sobered back up she would regret everything she did with her. Alcohol didn't erase the dislike one had for another person; it simply masked it behind false happiness and relief. _

"_You're no fun," said a disgruntled Fleur. She pouted and crossed her arms, glaring somewhere behind the brunette (no doubt seeing double). "Terry let me kiss him."_

_The knife in her chest twisted even harder this time. It was the alcohol that wanted her, not Fleur; Fleur was merely lost in the effect. Hermione was suddenly attacked with the painful question: how many times had the blonde gotten drunk and made out with people she hardly knew? It was clear that she was a very affectionate person while under the influence._

_Sighing deeply, she moved forward and slung her arm around Fleur's shoulders. "I'm taking you back to the common room now," she said, her tone void of emotion. Her eyes flashed dangerously at the bottle in her hand. "And I'll report you if I find you drinking again."_

"_You wouldn't!" _

_Hermione gave her a hard look. "Try me."_

_Grumbling irritably in response, Fleur allowed her to lead them out of the room. "I know you liked it," she mumbled quietly, more to herself that to the older girl._

_Hermione bit down on the side of cheek, hoping that it would distract her from the tears threatening to fall. At the moment, she was nothing but Fleur's play-thing, a distraction to keep herself occupied until she sobered up. She had used her exactly the way she used Terry, and the thought that she didn't even mean anything to Fleur, hurt more than she would ever know._

A hand waved over Hermione's face, jerking her back into reality. With a start, she met Fleur's concerned eyes, as well as Cassidy's amused ones, and stepped back. "What?" she asked offhandedly, still feeling the emotions her memory invoked. Glancing around, she saw they had reached the giant portrait that was entrance to the kitchen.

"You spaced out on us," Cassidy explained. Her brow furrowed. "For quite some time too," she added thoughtfully.

Shrugging, Hermione averted her gaze and reached forward, tickling the huge pear with her index finger. "Sorry," she apologized absently, stepping back to allow the brunette into the kitchen first.

As soon as Cassidy became distracted by the three House Elves that came to greet her, Fleur took Hermione by the elbow and led her a few paces away from the open portrait. There was enough noise issuing from inside the kitchen that they could go unheard. "Fleur, we can't just leave her in there by herself," Hermione said, not wanting to be alone with the blonde.

Fleur looked at her dubiously and watched as she settled her weight against the wall, leaning her head back so it was resting against the stone surface. "She's in the bloody _kitchen_, not the Forbidden Forest." Taking a step forward, she extended a hand and intertwined their hands. "What's wrong, Hermione?" she asked gently.

Gazing into those concerned, cerulean eyes, Hermione's mind flashed a mental image of those same eyes staring at her with a drunken bliss, and her heart tugged painfully. No matter how hard she tried not to believe it, she knew that Fleur was still the same person she was several months ago. Little had changed since then. The blonde was still as capable as hurting her as she ever was, and she didn't even realize it. The night she got drunk was one of the worst; Hermione had allowed herself to entertain ideas that she and Fleur would be okay the next morning, let herself hope that because she spent the entire night taking care of her, that the younger girl would extend some form of forgiveness. However, when Fleur woke up the next morning, she couldn't remember a thing that had happened the previous night, and continued on as though nothing had changed between herself and Hermione. It completely devastated the brunette, to feel that kind of hope, a hope for rekindled friendship, only to have it ripped away, almost like she never even deserved it to begin with. This was why Hermione hated alcohol; it gave her nothing but false hope and bad experiences (Matthew and Terry). Fleur still didn't know about it, as Hermione had never been keen on the idea of sharing yet another painful experience caused by the blonde.

"Nothing," she lied, staring just behind Fleur's head. She didn't need to know about this, for it would serve only as another tool of self-hatred. She wanted to change and that wouldn't happen if Hermione brought up past mistakes.

Eyes flashing, Fleur frowned, obviously hurt by the brunette's direct lie. "You sure?" she pressed, hoping that Hermione might confide her feelings with a little more persuasion. "Because Cassidy mentioned alcohol and then you were gone…" she trailed off, waiting to see if she would fill in the rest.

Hermione felt terrible for lying to the other girl, but she knew she would feel even worse if she confessed what had happened. "It's nothing, I'm fine, Fleur, honestly." Pushing herself off the wall, she let go of her hand and smiled reassuringly. "You hungry?" Walking backwards, she stopped next to the portrait, resting her hand against the ornate, golden frame. "I think I'm going to get another pastry, they were delicious at breakfast."

Fleur merely shook her head and smiled weakly. She was positive something was wrong with Hermione, but this was the first time she felt it had to do with her; it was her venturing into the Hogwarts' kitchen for a pastry that instigated such a feeling. Was she so eager to get away from her that she would ask the House Elves to go out of their way to prepare another pastry when she despised how people treated like slaves? Sighing deeply, Fleur made her way back to the portrait and gazed at her troubled girlfriend for a moment before climbing inside.

What was Hermione hiding from her?

* * *

A/N: I thought it was time to start getting into the darker parts of their past and show just exactly what Hermione has forgiven, so I hope you guys liked it. Also, I've posted a picture of Cassidy on my livejournal. I haven't done much with her yet but there'll be a lot more to come.

I was amazed by all the positive feedback I got for my last chapter, so thank you tons-it was very much encouraging.


	16. Chapter 16

_The Trophy Room appeared deserted when Fleur arrived at half past eight. Tip-toeing further into the room, she swept her eyes across the expanse of floor space, watching carefully for an ill-timing Mrs. Norris. When she was satisfied that neither human nor cat occupied the room, she relaxed her shoulders and casually checked her reflection in the glass of the nearest trophy case. She grinned, happy with the lie her physical appearance administered. No one could tell how utterly miserable she was by the way she presented herself; her new, high-maintenance morning routine (adopted by Lavender) had her looking her best ever. _

"_There's credit to be given, Delacour, I never even thought to use this place before."_

_Flicking her eyes to the other side of the trophy case, Fleur noticed an addition to the reflection. She whirled around and sneered at Malfoy, who was looking around the room with airy surprise. "An indirect compliment to my intelligence as well as an insult to your own," she breezed, leaning carelessly against the sturdy case. "My dream has finally become reality." She smirked at the unfazed boy._

"_I don't normally deal outside of Slytherin," he told her, holding up his bulging school bag, "so location isn't usually a factor." Following her lead, he leaned against the trophy case opposite of her._

"_Branching out for me? I'm touched," Fleur said dryly, crossing her arms and tilting her head against the glass. When he shrugged casually, she continued. "But out of curiosity, why _are_ you dealing to me? Your father's got enough galleons to fill Gringotts' largest vaults, it's not like you need my gold." The news that he didn't deal to anyone outside his own house had caught her by surprise, but then she realized it had been Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin, who told her about Malfoy's little side job. _

_Bending his knee, he rested his foot against the base of the trophy unit and smirked at her. "I've always wanted to see the good, little Mudblood turn bad." He lowered his bag to the floor, only letting go of the strap when it was firmly on the ground. "But to be the one who made it possible?" Mock-shivering, he sneered. "It sends chills down my spine," he finished darkly, moving his bent leg so his foot rested against the top of his bag._

_Fleur fished in her own bag for a minute, looking for the small sack of gold Malfoy had requested. Once she found, she let her bag drop back to her side and flung the sack to the older boy, who caught it with ease. "Just remember that my blood is still mud when you're wanking off to thoughts of my corruption later." A sharp wave of self-loathing washed over her; thoughts of Malfoy doing anything to himself while thinking of her made her feel disgusting. _

_With a firm jerk of his foot, Malfoy kicked the bag so it skidded across the room and knocked against Fleur's feet before coming to a stop. He pocketed the sack of galleons in his robe without counting them. "I don't wank off to Mudbloods, Delacour," he said sharply, staring hard at the blonde, who had dropped to her knees and was pulling the assortment of bottles from his bag. _

_A tiny fragment of Fleur's self-hatred dissipated and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. "That certainly makes me feel better about myself," she said honestly, counting the various colored bottles of alcohol before her. The green bottle emitting a dull, neon glow caught her eye and she stared warily at it. "None of this is poison, right?"_

"_It's truly inspiring the depths you've gone to make Granger's life a living hell." He raised his hand, catching his bag as Fleur conjured her Chaser strength and threw it hard at his face. "Alcohol in the Gryffindor common room will drive her mad." He scratched his chin in mock-thoughtfulness. "Should she report her former other half to McGonagall or let you get away with it?" Grinning wickedly, he pushed himself off the trophy case and shouldered his bag, preparing to leave. "I'm just dying to find out."_

_Fleur knew she should have spotted Malfoy's self-serving intentions right off the bat, however, she wasn't about to complain, as she had gotten what she wanted from him. "No poison then?" she asked, pulling a thick towel out of her bag and laying it on the ground._

"_Alcohol _is_ poison, you idiot," he insulted. "It only works a little slower than most."_

_Shaking her head, she carefully rolled the six large bottles into the towel. "You're one sick fuck, I hope you know," she said casually, shoving the towel back into her empty bag and climbing to her feet._

_Malfoy looked politely puzzled. "Me?" he asked dubiously. "Take a look in the mirror, Delacour, and you'll see how sick _you've_ become. There are a dozen other sellers in the castle and you choose _me_ to buy from, because you knew it would eat at Granger the most." He smirked malignantly when she looked away and scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. "Shame you were born a Mudblood, you would've made a delightful addition to Slytherin." Shaking his head regretfully, he walked to the door._

"_I'm nothing like you," Fleur said weakly, staring hard at the floor. _

_Already half out of the room, Malfoy turned around and sneered at the blonde. "It'll be a sad day when you actually start to believe that."_

_Fleur glared darkly at the door as it was closed. Malfoy was wrong about his accusation: she wasn't buying alcohol from him because she wanted to hurt Hermione, she was doing it for herself. This was what she had become; so low and disgusting that she didn't deserve anyone better than Malfoy. She hated him but she knew she had become him with the lies and cruelty. Down in the dark was where she belonged. _

_Pulling her bag strap over her head so it rested diagonally across her torso, Fleur followed the path Malfoy had taken to the door moments beforehand. With a careful hand resting on her bag, she opened the door and found herself face-to-face with the last person she wanted to see._

_Hermione's eyes widened and flew down the corridor to where she saw Malfoy's platinum head disappear around the corner. "What were you just doing with Malfoy?" _

_If Fleur wasn't mistaken, Hermione sounded incredibly hurt. _

The dormitory was empty when Hermione woke the next morning. Disoriented, she sat up and squinted around the room through sleep-heavy eyes. Fleur's bed was empty and fixed (something she did for Hermione's sake when she discovered that House Elves were the ones who made their beds) and Cassidy's was an empty mess of blankets. The water running inside the bathroom indicated that someone was taking a shower.

When Hermione glanced at her alarm clock and saw that it was a quarter after ten, she instantly jumped out of bed, wide awake, and hurriedly began gathering her clothes for her morning shower. She _hated_ sleeping in, even if it meant running on only a few hours of sleep.

Last night was more fun for Hermione than it was for Fleur, who ended up going to bed at half past twelve after growing bored of listening to the two brunettes' chatter. It was after three when Hermione reluctantly decided to call it a night. She was surprised how at ease she felt talking with Cassidy, and found her company much more enjoyable than Lavender and Parvati's. The only person she felt more comfortable speaking about personal things with was Fleur, and Hermione was pleased that she found someone other than her girlfriend she could grow close to.

Hermione always thought she had some kind of emotional wall towards other people, a wall only Fleur was capable of penetrating. She never felt comfortable confiding her feelings with anyone but Fleur, not even with Harry and Ron, who she considered to be two of her best friends. Sometimes she found it fortunate that she was an emotional open window; if people looked hard enough, they could usually decipher what she was feeling and never press her to say it. With Cassidy, however, she found herself easily confiding things about her family, how she felt about her peers, and how she viewed herself in general.

Cassidy, in return, had extended the same courtesy, sharing what seemed to be her entire life story. She was a half-blood, muggle mother and wizard father, and did in fact come from a very wealthy background. Residing in New York, her mother Dana was a lawyer, specializing in celebrity defense, and her father Ian was a renowned potions master. She confessed that she had been expelled from Salem Institute towards the end of first term after someone falsely accused her of assault, and after the case was settled, Hogwarts was the only English-speaking school that would accept her.

When Hermione knocked softly on the bathroom door, she heard Cassidy's echoed voice say, "It's open!" Slipping inside the steamy bathroom, she looked around hopefully for her girlfriend and sighed disappointedly when she wasn't there. Hermione wanted to see the blonde and make sure she was okay. While Fleur seemed to be controlling her outbursts of emotions incredibly well those past few days, Hermione had a feeling that she included complete silence of what she was feeling as part of that control.

"If it's a shared bathroom, why are you knocking?"

Swallowing hard at the sight of a towel-clad Cassidy climbing out of the shower, Hermione looked away pointedly and made her way to the opposite shower. "Good manners, I suppose. We all do it." Allowing herself to glance at the other girl, she was pleased to notice that Cassidy didn't have the insufferable habit of walking around the bathroom sopping wet after a shower. "Have you seen Fleur this morning?" she asked hopefully.

Cassidy shook her head while grabbing a bottle of lotion off the newly added fifth shelf (when they had returned to their dormitory yesterday, the room had been resized to fit all of her Cassidy's belongings). "She was gone when I woke up," she told her, smoothing lotion onto her arms.

"Oh." While Hermione hung her towel on the adjacent hook, she could feel the other girl's eyes watching her. When she glanced over her shoulder, Cassidy was, indeed, staring at her, a tiny smile tugging at the right corner of her mouth. "What?" Hermione asked self-consciously, turning her back to the younger girl again, feeling awkward.

Cassidy stared for another, contemplating if she wanted to share her thoughts. "I don't want to sound presumptuous or anything like that, but you and Fleur, you're dating right?" she asked, though it was clear she was only doing so for confirmation.

Shoulders tensing, Hermione slowly turned around and was relieved to see Cassidy look far from disgusted. Usually she didn't care what other people thought of her and her life, but if one of her dorm mates decided they didn't like her sexuality, it could make life difficult for her and Fleur. While talking to the brunette several hours ago, she had glossed over the aspects of her relationship with Fleur, due to the dark frown Cassidy summoned when they spoke of their Christmas break. But what had she been scowling about if not her roommates' lesbian relationship?

"Yes," Hermione said slowly, waiting to see some form of a visual reaction. Cassidy appeared unfazed and she casually returned to the task of applying lotion. "How did you know?" she finally asked, feeling even more relieved by the uncaring attitude; it had just occurred to her that if Cassidy had had a negative reaction, she would have lost the only person she felt she had made a connection with.

"I can usually read people really well," Cassidy responded with a nonchalant shrug, giving Hermione the impression she didn't think much of her skill. "And please don't take this wrong way, but I get the serious lesbian vibe from you." The younger girl threw a grin over her shoulder to show that she had no issue with it. "Pushing all that aside though, I saw you and Fleur kissing in the common room when I got back from the bathroom. Could easily be interpreted as a friendly gesture, but after the lesbian vibe thing…" she trailed, amused by Hermione's puzzled expression.

Hermione managed to listen to everything Cassidy said, but she was still caught up on her "lesbian vibe." She couldn't deny her sole attraction towards women, but she never thought other people would so easily notice. "Does Fleur give off the same vibe?" she wondered curiously.

Lips drawing into an adorable thoughtful grin, Cassidy stared at the ceiling for a moment before shaking her head. "Not in the slightest," she said confidently. "Fleur screams heterosexual."

"She does?" Hermione asked uneasily. The closest thing she could compare what feelings Cassidy's words provoked was hurt. It was like someone had given her heart an unpleasant squeeze and the aftershock was the dreaded curiosity of how many people had drawn the same conclusion.

Cassidy nodded, turning her back to the other girl and letting the towel drop to her waist so she could apply lotion to her torso. "Yep. At first I thought you just had an unreturned crush on her, because she didn't really look at you the same way you looked at her." With her back to Hermione, she was unable to see her growing crestfallen expression. "I could be wrong though, maybe she was just having an off day."

"I really need to shower now, people are going to start getting back soon," Hermione said offhandedly, keen to retreat from their conversation about Fleur and the unsettling feelings it instigated. She knew her feelings were irrational. After all, their relationship was still a secret, for the most part, so she shouldn't feel hurt when other people don't catch on to Fleur's feelings.

"I'll see you in the common room then," Cassidy said, sliding the towel back around her torso. She turned around and watched a troubled Hermione unbutton her pajama top from the bottom. Biting her lip at the sight of the girl's flat stomach, she quickly shook her head and grabbed her hairbrush off the shelf. "Later."

"Bye," Hermione responded absently, having missed Cassidy's lewd stare.

If Fleur wasn't in the common room when she finished with her shower, she would use the Visiting Mirror to locate the other girl. After her conversation with Cassidy, Hermione found herself desperate to see Fleur.

_Hermione rounded the corner just as someone opened the Trophy Room door and placed a foot outside before stopping and turning to face whoever remained inside. "It'll be a sad day when you actually start to believe that."_

_Inwardly groaning, she considered turning around and taking a different route back to the common room; a stressful day of class and Fleur's cruel (vulgar) remarks had left her in a foul mood. An encounter with Malfoy would not help anything. _

_Just as she began to turn around, Malfoy closed the door and noticed her standing only a few feet away. A wicked glint lit his eyes and he sneered. "Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he said so casually that Hermione's suspicions piqued dramatically._

_Sighing, she decided not to question him. She was not in the mood for his games; if he wanted to insult her, she could hardly care less at the moment. "Whatever you want to say to me, just say it." _

_Instead of launching into a malicious tirade of her blood status, he merely smirked and began to walk away backwards. "I'm in far too good a mood for insults. The Trophy Room?" He pointed to the door he just came out of. "Is an excellent room for illicit trysts." His hips thrust forward and he uttered a crude noise. _

_Disgusted, Hermione didn't respond, and watched Malfoy strut down the corridor without another word. Facing the door, she briefly wondered if it was Pansy Parkinson inside, before realizing she didn't really want to know. _

_She was about to continue her path back to the Gryffindor tower when the door reopened; Fleur stood in the entrance looking a mixture of miserable, exhausted, and startled. Eyes widening, Hermione's thoughts flashed back to Malfoy's last words and, with a growing sense of dread and hurt, glanced down the corridor, where she saw him vanish around the corner. _

"_What were you just doing with Malfoy?" Hermione asked in a pained voice, as agonizing images of Malfoy and Fleur having sex on the Trophy Room floor flashed through her mind. Her eyes swept up and down the blonde's figure, looking for any indication what Malfoy said was true. _

_Fleur's expression of misery instantly darkened to the hateful scowl she always wore in the older girl's presence. "Shagging," she responded without skipping a beat. _

_Heart plunging to her stomach, Hermione felt all the air leave her lungs and her legs begin to tremble. Tears instantly began to form in the corners of her eyes as she let Fleur's words sink in, but she quickly fought them back; the younger girl did not deserve to see her vulnerability, not anymore._

"_Guess you're not the only one whoring around these days," Fleur said. The uncaring and casual tone stung Hermione more than the actual insult. "I wonder if you like it as rough as I do." _

_Feeling a mixture of devastation and anger, Hermione moved away from the door and began making her way down the corridor, eager to get away from the one person who always knew exactly how to hurt her. However, right as she reached the corner, she spun around and stormed back to the blonde, whose face was one of misery once again._

"_What?" Fleur asked rudely, when she discovered Hermione standing in front of her._

"_Is this honestly the person you want to be?" Her eyes glanced up and down the blonde, noting the distinct changes in appearance (what day had she begun to use makeup?) "You hate Malfoy, but now you're sleeping with him? I don't know what's happened to you, Fleur, but at this point, I'm starting not to care." It was a complete lie, of course, but Hermione was so sick of Fleur constantly hurting her. "Why should I even bother with someone as vile and cruel as you?" The blonde's eyes flashed and her bottom lip trembled. The hand clutching Hermione's heart squeezed painfully. "If you prefer to spend your time with someone who's only using you for your body, rather than be with the people who truly appreciate your company, then I'm not going to waste my time caring." Swallowing hard, she established firm eye contact with the miserable girl. "Hate me if you wish but I'm done, all right?" Shaking her head sadly, she began to walk away backwards, maintaining eye contact. "I'm finished with you."_

_The moment Hermione turned around, the tears began to fall down both girls' faces._

Cassidy was the only person in the common room when Hermione arrived forty five minutes later. She was sprawled on a sofa in the corner reading Fleur's copy of "Magical Half-Breeds." Moving further inside, she craned her neck to see if Fleur was lying down on the couch in front of the fireplace, and sighed in disappointment when she wasn't there.

"What's this 'Chosen' thing all about?" Cassidy asked right as Hermione was about to reenter the staircase to retrieve her Visiting Mirror.

Turning to the other brunette, Hermione saw her peering at her over the top of the book. She sighed, frustrated, and moved closer. "Essentially, they're the person a Veela is bound with by Fate to love," she responded, trying to keep her voice even as she sat on the ground next to the couch. It wasn't Cassidy's fault that Fleur disappeared without word. She had to keep in mind that the blonde would have left a short letter if she wanted her to know where she was.

"So they don't get a choice on who they love?" she asked, frowning.

It was quite clear that Cassidy wasn't very fond of the idea, but Hermione knew if she had been selected as a Chosen, she would think differently. Whether she was magically tied to someone or not, love should never be a burden to bear, but a gift to nurture and cherish.

Shaking her head, she smoothed a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. "It isn't like that at all. Veela and Chosen aren't immune to the trials of a regular relationship," she explained, recalling what Apolline had said. "They can just as easily be torn apart as any other couple."

"Is this all in the book?" Cassidy asked, brow furrowing as she held the volume up in her hands and stared curiously at it. When Hermione nodded, she continued. "So Veela and Chosen can fall in love with other people?"

The older girl thought for a moment. "Theoretically, yes," she realized, a hint of a frown beginning to form on her face. "Human beings are free to fall in love with whomever their heart tells them to, Veela and Chosen aren't an exception…" she finished quietly and gazed hollowly at the table beside her, visited with the horrible realization that if she and Fleur hadn't begun their relationship when they did, there was a good chance the blonde would have fallen in love with Matthew.

"So how long have you and Fleur been dating for?" Cassidy asked casually, drastically changing the subject.

After glancing at her with troubled eyes, Hermione wasn't so sure if this was a topic of conversation that would make her feel _better_. "Er, it'll be two months on the twelfth." Flicking her eyes down to her watch, she saw that she still had forty minutes until the Gryffindors began their gradual return, and another two hours until Harry and Ron returned (their scheduled Floo commute was at ten after two).

Cassidy gave her a scrutinizing look. "You okay, Hermione?" she asked, sounding truly concerned.

Ripped out of her arrival estimation thoughts, the older girl gave her a blank look. "What?"

"Are you okay?" she repeated. "You seem out of it…"

Hermione shook her head dismissively. "I'm fine," she declared. When Cassidy looked at her dubiously, she realized that maybe talking about her concerns with Fleur might help. She had never really been offered the chance to talk about Fleur in an open environment with someone she felt she could trust. If there was anybody she could talk to, Cassidy was that person. "I'm really just worried about Fleur is the thing."

Cassidy flipped onto her stomach so she could offer the older brunette her full attention. "How come?" she asked gently.

"She's been going through some things," Hermione said vaguely, staring at her hands, occasionally glancing at the other girl. "It's unlike her to just disappear."

Without moving her head, Cassidy flicked her eyes back and forth between Hermione and the portrait hole. "If you need to go find her, don't let me and my pointless questions about Veela stop you."

"But that's the thing, if she wanted me to know where she was she would have left a note." Hermione held her head in her hand and gave the other younger girl a helpless look. "Maybe she needs space," she said quietly, staring dejectedly at her shoes.

A small smile played at the edges of Cassidy's lips. "Space? Like space from you?" She chuckled, amused. "I find that hard to believe."

Hermione's mouth cracked into a tiny grin. "Oh, shut up," she said, her mouth spreading into a lopsided smile. Maybe that was what she needed in the first place: someone to make her smile. Helping someone with a problem or worry of theirs didn't always have to be filled with insightful advice; sometimes all a person needed was to smile. Cassidy seemed to understand that, especially with the little information Hermione offered her.

"Hey," came a familiar voice from across the room.

Hermione's heart leapt. Tearing her gaze away from Cassidy, she jumped to her feet and smiled brightly at her girlfriend in greeting.

Climbing off the couch, Cassidy carefully placed 'Magical Half-Breeds' on the table and began moving in the direction of the stairs. "I think I'm going to head upstairs and send my sister and email." She gave Hermione a pointed grin, and nodded at Fleur as they passed each other.

Fleur waiting until Cassidy had gone through the door before sliding her arms around Hermione's waist and soundly pressing their lips together. The brunette allowed herself several long moments to enjoy the pleasurable sensations Fleur's lips brought to her body before pulling away from the kiss and embrace. "Where were you?" she asked, pushing her hands against the blonde's stomach and leading her to sit on the couch Cassidy had vacated. Once she was seated, Hermione sat on her lap, straddling her thighs.

Brow twitching in confusion, Fleur looked at her curiously before answering. "Devin and I were helping Hagrid form a lesson plan for his third years," she said, caressing her hands up and down Hermione's upper thighs. "We convinced him to move the unicorn study up a year and…" She trailed off, noticing Hermione's frown. "What is it?"

Hermione felt somewhat irritated now. "Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" Fleur was obviously not distressed in any way, and she had been worrying herself while the blonde was only off at Hagrid's happily forming a new lesson plan.

"I didn't want to wake you…" Fleur said uncertainly, halting the movement of her hands.

"I mean, why didn't you leave me a note?" she clarified, realizing the other girl didn't understand what she had implied.

Fleur blinked. "But I did."

"What?"

"I left a note right on your nightstand," she told her, her brow furrowed deep as she recalled the note she had written that morning.

"No you didn't." Hermione was confused now; had she missed it in her rush to get into the shower?

The blonde gave her an examining look and moved her hand up to cup her cheek. "Hermione, is there something wrong?" she asked uncertainly.

Leaning into the hand cupping her face, she gently reached for Fleur's other one and held it between both her own. Shutting her eyes, she tried to expel the uncertainty Cassidy had made her feel about her girlfriend. That was what this was about; the other brunette's unsettling words had been enforced by the lack of Fleur's note, leaving Hermione insecure about their relationship once again. She had thought knowing the truth about Chosen would rid her of those feelings, but after what she said to Cassidy about Veela and Chosen, her insecurities had been unveiled once again.

"It's nothing," she lied, letting go of her hand and settling further into her lap.

"If it's nothing then why won't you tell me?" Fleur asked gently.

Shaking her head, Hermione entangled her hands in the other girl's platinum locks. "Don't worry about it, Fleur, honestly. I'm all right. Where's Devin?" Fleur didn't need her pointless insecurities hanging over her head while trying to change herself. She needed Hermione's support, and she would take it to heart if the brunette began talking about the reasons for her insecurity.

Fleur's expression was unreadable, though Hermione knew she was upset that she wouldn't confide her feelings. "Still at Hagrid's," she finally said, staring somewhere behind her head. After a moment, she turned her eyes back to Hermione and grinned. "I came back because I missed you," she said playfully, leaning her forehead against the older girl's.

"Wake me next time and I'll go with you," Hermione whispered, her eyes drawn to Fleur's desirable lips.

"Okay."

Even after their lips were sealed together, she could sense the other girl's worry. Things weren't okay. However, once Hermione got over her insecurities, things would be better again.

_Fleur blindly banged the dormitory door shut and raced towards her dresser. It took everything she had to keep from screaming her lungs out of her throat, and she groped through her top drawer with a violently trembling hand. She couldn't take it anymore; the constant agony of living her life was torture. She couldn't stand feeling this way. All she wanted was for it to stop. She wanted everything to stop._

_Unable to find the knife she kept hidden under her socks, Fleur slammed the drawer shut in supreme frustration. Grasping the handle again, she pulled the drawer back out, brought her foot up, and kicked it shut with all her might. She didn't wait for her dresser to stop shaking before she clutched the handle once more and yanked the entire drawer out, watching as its contents (socks and underwear) scattered between her and Hermione's bed._

_With her entire body shaking with anguish, she flung the empty drawer at her dresser and didn't even register the thundering noise it made. Dropping to her knees, she savored the shock of pain that shot from her knees to her thighs and dug her long fingernails deep into the wooden floor. Without giving it a second thought, she began to drag her hands, shrieking at the agony of a thousand tiny splinters burying themselves in her fingertips. _

_It didn't help though. As unbearable as the pain was, it wasn't enough to erase everything she was feeling; the misery that came with the realization that there was nothing left for her in this world. She had completely ruined things with Hermione, messed everything up so badly that the brunette would probably laugh in her face if she went to her now and asked forgiveness. Hermione said she was finished…she never turned back on her word…_

_Fleur was dirty, vile, she deserved nothing from Hermione. All she deserved was herself, the self-hatred, the irrational and uncontrollable rage. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she pulled her hands even further through the floorboard, praying that her bloodshed would bring the relief she longed for. _

_What was happening to her? Why was she looking for her knife? Did she really think she had it in her to cut herself? _

_Yanking her bloody nails out of the floor, Fleur crawled towards every sock roll in sight, lifted it, and screamed every time the roll produced no knife. She had it in her, she realized, but she wasn't just going to cut herself, no; she was going to use the knife to kill herself. To end it all. To escape what she, herself, had created. _

"_What the hell are you doing, Fleur?" _

_Ceasing movement, Fleur stared hard at the sock-encased knife in front of her, her heart thundering. She had been so close. The end to her life was lying right in front of her, but the relief to her life stood directly behind her. _

"_Fleur?"_

_She didn't sound angry, only worried, acting as though the conversation they had a mere twenty minutes ago never happened. The blonde was visited with the desire to laugh; Hermione obviously couldn't see the blood on her fingertips or her tear-stained face. If she could, she would sound a lot more than worried. _

"_What are you doing in here?" she asked hoarsely, slowly coming to her senses and realizing with horror what she almost just did. When Hermione said she was done with her, Fleur had never felt so completely lost and lonely her entire life…she just wanted it to stop. _

"_One of the fourth year girls heard banging," Hermione slowly responded._

_Fleur could feel her eyes examining her back. "So you're here on a noise complaint?" Grabbing the sock-covered knife, she climbed to her feet, keeping her back to the other girl. Sliding the knife out, she stared at the sharp, metallic blade, feeling all desire to kill herself dissipate. All it took was Hermione's presence in a room and she could feel her irrationality slowly drift away, like a lone cloud on a sunny day. She didn't want to need that from her. Once she stopped needing that from Hermione she could truly get over her. _

"_Parvati and Lavender are both in the common room," she said carefully, as though she suspected Fleur might lash out cruelly over her expressing any kind of concern. _

"_I thought you said you were finished with me." Swallowing hard, she surreptitiously slipped the knife into the deepest pocket of her robes. _

_Hermione was silent for several moments. "What's wrong, Fleur?" she finally asked in a quiet voice._

_Sorely wishing she could see the brunette's face (it was much easier to read expressions that way), Fleur shrugged her right shoulder. "Nothing," she lied. "I was just trying to find my watch is all. Got a little carried away with the search." Never mind that her watch was resting comfortably on her wrist._

"_You're lying."_

_Fleur inwardly groaned at Hermione's keen sense of perception. "You shouldn't accuse me of fallacies." Why did she feel she needed to defend her lie?_

"_Fallacies?" she scoffed, taking a step forward. "Do you honestly need me to justify my reasoning for this?" When the blonde didn't respond, she took another step forward. "What's wrong?" she repeated carefully._

_Fleur shook her head, silently cursing when tears began to fall. Hermione would never leave if she knew she was crying. At that moment, she couldn't even hold up her usual charade of hating her. "I can't tell you," she whispered. There was no way she would allow herself to bring the other girl into this; it was her problem, her depression, she didn't deserve relief. _

"_I'm sorry about what I said earlier," Hermione apologized._

_Brow furrowing, Fleur stared at her dresser in shock. Why was she apologizing for something that wasn't_ _her fault? She _never_ did that. However, the younger girl wasn't about to let it go. She needed Hermione to care about her; without it, life wasn't worth living. _

"_I didn't sleep with Malfoy," she admitted quietly. Why was she telling the truth? Why was she letting go of her hatred act? Her shoulders trembled and she closed her eyes, realizing the horrific reason behind her first act of kindness in two months; she needed to not feel suicidal again, and Hermione was the only one who could help, whether she was aware of it or not. _

_Hermione let out a strangled sigh of relief and, though Fleur couldn't see it, smiled softly at her turned back. "What were you doing in the Trophy Room with him?" she asked gently, taking another step forward so now she was only an arm's reach away. Extending her hand, she slowly reached for Fleur's shoulder._

"_He was helping me with a problem of mine." It wasn't a complete lie, but she did not want the other girl to know about the alcohol or her reasons for getting it; it was her own poisonous cure to bear._

_Hermione's hand halted in midair. "Oh," she said quietly, sounding stung. Her hand dropped back to her side like a rock._

_Heart lurching painfully, Fleur knew just how much her words hurt the brunette. She hadn't lost her sense of perception; she knew Hermione still cared about her, still wanted their friendship to work out, and Fleur, twisted as she was, used that against her for her own selfish reasons. _

"_Yeah…"_

"_Was he, er, did he manage to help?" she asked in high-pitched voice._

_Fleur shrugged. "I got what I needed," she said vaguely, her watery eyes flicking towards the bag on her bed. Tonight would be a good night to lose herself in liquid relief. _

"_And what was that?" Hermione pressed, her tone resembling something akin to desperation. _

"_Nothing you need to know about."_

_For the next several moments, the only sound in the dormitory was Hermione's hitched breathing as she controlled her need to cry. Fleur remained still, not allowing herself to say anything that would make the other girl feel better. It nearly killed her to stay silent. _

"_I…I have a lot of studying to do," Hermione finally said, her voice sounding incredibly strained._

"_Me too," Fleur whispered._

"_I'll be in the common room if you need…" she trailed off, not fully able to finish her sentence. However, it didn't matter; Fleur had gotten the message. "Yeah…I'll see you later then." _

"_Bye." With her grip growing firm on the knife, the blonde listened as Hermione quietly shuffled away on light feet. Her heart, body, and all her senses were shrieking at her, screaming to not let Hermione walk away from her. Biting her bruised lip as hard as she could, she raged a horrendous battle against the bloody war brewing inside her chest. She didn't deserve the other girl, didn't deserve the happiness she brought. All she deserved was the self-loathing and torment hurting Hermione made her feel._

"_Fleur?" she asked from the door._

"_Yeah?" _

"_You should see Madam Pomfrey about your hands," she said, appearing unfazed when Fleur instinctively whirled around in surprise and revealed her tearstained face and puffy, red eyes._

_All the breath seemed to leave Fleur's lungs and she found herself gasping for air, not even realizing she had turned around. "How did you—how did you know?" she choked. Her heart twisted torturously in addition to her lack of breath. She didn't know what to think anymore. _

_Hermione pointed towards her bed and stared at her with expressionless features. "You reflect in the window." Her voice was curt, but she her eyes flashed, distressed as she ran her gaze up and down Fleur's ragged form. _

_Glancing behind her, the blonde saw that she was, in fact, reflected in the window next to Hermione's bed due to the amount of light in their dormitory. She slowly turned her head back around and gazed apprehensively at the other girl, unable to speak. _

_Pulling out her wand, Hermione pointed it at her. "Accio Fleur's knife!"_

_The long, metallic blade ripped through her robes with a loud tear and flew towards the brunette, who jumped to the side in a flash as it whipped by her head and embedded itself in the wall behind. Wrapping her fingers around the hilt, she gave a firm tug and yanked the knife out. She glared at the long silver as though it was a murder tool, and pocketed it several moments later. Her dark scowl remained even when she returned her gaze to Fleur._

_Still glaring angrily at the younger girl, Hermione slowly opened the door. "I can't believe you would do this to yourself," she said darkly, her expression conveying a mixture of terror and fury. "I want to help you, Fleur, I really do, but I need you to _want _that help." Shaking her head regretfully, her expression softened and she stared sadly at the blonde. _

_Fleur, who still hadn't withdrawn her hands from her pockets despite being caught, felt wave after wave of anguish and sorrow. Any moment now, she would collapse under the weight of the pounding torment clenching her body with the grip of a Devil's Snare. "I don't want your help," she said truthfully. Help was only for people worthy of forgiveness and Fleur did not fall into that category._

_Hermione flinched, as though the blonde had lunged forward to attack her. "I hope Malfoy can give you what you're looking for then," she said coldly. Without another word, she left the dormitory and closed the door._

_The urge to follow Hermione and call her back was so strong that Fleur fell numbly on her bed. It was like dying of thirst and having a large glass of water directly in front of her, but refusing to take it. She would not allow herself to use the brunette as relief, not until she was clean again. _

_This was so much bigger than Hermione's rejection, and the other girl seemed to grasp that since the beginning. It was _never_ about falling out of love with her, but Hermione wouldn't understand that Fleur pushed her away for her own good, would never know that she was only trying to protect her. _

_Hermione could never know what happened when she went to New York for their Easter holiday; could never know about the disgusting, unforgivable things she committed under the influence of the beautiful and manipulative Cassidy Kroeger. _

Cassidy was lying on her bed (placed between Hermione's and Parvati's) typing away madly on the laptop propped on her stomach. She paused and looked to the door when Fleur entered, but returned to her typing a moment later.

After staring at her for a moment, Fleur made her way to Hermione's bed and began lifting pillows and searching under the covers for the note she had left this morning. She was positive that she left it on the girl's nightstand, but if Hermione hadn't seen it then it was possible it fell onto her bed.

"What are you doing?" Cassidy asked, closing her laptop and placing it carefully on the bed beside her. She sat up and looked curiously as the blonde made a mess out of Hermione's blankets.

"Looking for the note I left Hermione this morning," she responded, reaching under the thinnest sheet and running her hand as far across the mattress as she could. When she felt no sheet of parchment, she knew it was time to give up. "I don't know what could have happened to it, I left it right on her nightstand," she said, feeling frustrated.

Shrugging, Cassidy climbed off her bed, and moved to check behind Hermione's nightstand, as though it could have fallen through the millimeter of space between it and the wall. "Maybe the House Elves thought it was garbage and took it while she was still sleeping," she suggested.

It didn't seem likely, but Fleur could offer no other reason for the note's disappearance. She knew Hermione would be worried if she wasn't there when she woke up, which was why she had written the note in the first place. After everything that happened on Christmas, they hadn't spent more than an hour apart, so for Fleur to disappear without word would worry Hermione a great deal.

"I suppose," Fleur said hesitantly. "Odd though. They've never done that before…" Shrugging it off, she began to remake Hermione's bed. "How do you get your computer to work here?" she wondered.

Cassidy, who had hopped back onto her bed and was sitting cross-legged facing Fleur, shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know, it's some kind of charm Salem professors use to make muggle technology work. The magical energy in this place is way higher, so I wasn't too sure if this would actually work, but I guess the same principles apply."

Fleur nodded, impressed. "Cool." She was envious of the other girl, but she had grown accustomed to Hogwarts' lifestyle over the years. Muggle technology had its conveniences, but looking at it from a fair standpoint, wizards shouldn't take advantage of what muggles had to offer if they couldn't do the same with wizards. However, she only thought that to make herself feel better about not having such simple muggle conveniences.

"Yeah, I think so too. It's a lot easier to type essays on a computer than by hand…faster too," she said, furrowing her brow as though she had only just realized that.

Chuckling, Fleur realized that was probably true. "So where are you from?" she asked, changing the topic. If Hermione was up until three in the morning talking with Cassidy, then maybe there was more to her than Fleur had originally given credit for.

Cassidy's right eyebrow arched and she gave the blonde an examining look. Frowning, Fleur wondered if she had already been told that piece of information and was appearing rude for forgetting. "New York," she responded carefully, narrowing her eyes.

"Really?" Sitting on the edge of Hermione's newly fixed bed, Fleur crossed her legs. "My grandparents live there."

"Do they now?" Cassidy folded her hands in her lap and pressed the tip of her tongue to the side of her top lip. "When was the last time you visited?"

The nonchalant curiosity the brunette spoke with was beginning to Fleur on edge. She was acting like she already knew about this stuff and was only asking to be polite. Perhaps Hermione told Cassidy about her family when they were talking last night. "Easter Break last year," she said, looking very carefully at the other girl.

Cassidy's eyes flickered with unknown emotion, which she concealed with a polite smile. "Really? How was that?" she asked coolly.

Fleur shrugged carelessly. "I don't really remember to be perfectly honest." It was true; she did not remember much about her holiday to New York. She could recall the mornings and early afternoons she spent with her grandparents quite clearly, but the rest of the days were a smudgy blur. Whenever she tried to remember what happened, she developed an indescribable chest-numbing feeling that left her in a fearful mood the rest of the day. Therefore, she tried not to think about it anymore, as it probably had something to do with Hermione, which was the reason why she had gone to McGonagall and requested express permission to leave the castle for break in the first place.

"I see," Cassidy said, slowly nodding her head in acceptance. "That's too bad, Manhattan's a great city."

"How did you know it was Manhattan I visited?" she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes on the other girl as she began to grow irritated; exactly how much did Hermione tell Cassidy about her? Quickly realizing she was becoming irritated over nothing, she wiped the suspicious look from her face and grinned good-naturedly.

Shrugging her shoulders, Cassidy shook her head. "I didn't, that's just where I'm from. And I figured if you went to New York that that's where you went," she said with a casual wave of her hand. When Fleur nodded in acceptance, she leaned forward, propping her weight on her upper arms against her knees. "You really don't remember what happened?" Her eyes searched the blonde's carefully, looking for any sign of a lie.

Shaking her head, Fleur stood up and straightened out her jeans. "Nothing too exciting, I'm going to assume." She moved across the dormitory, fiddling with the locket resting comfortably against her shirt. "Hermione's waiting for me in the common room," she said, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke.

Cassidy smiled. "I'll see you later then."

Fleur returned the smile with a toothless grin before stepping out of the room. As soon as the door shut, Cassidy's smile faltered and a scowl slid onto her face. "God, you really don't remember, do you, Fleur?" she muttered fiercely to herself. Laughing humorlessly, she leaned to the side, reached under her fluffy, white pillow, and pulled out two items. The first was the note Fleur had written Hermione that morning; Cassidy had stolen it when she recognized the blonde's writing on the front. The second was an eight-month old moving photograph.

"I'll make you remember," she whispered maliciously. Cassidy gazed down at the motionless picture of her and Fleur sitting on a bench in Central Park together for a moment, before grabbing her laptop to research memory modification in Salem Institute's database.

* * *

A/N: So Fleur and Cassidy have a past...which Fleur's completely forgotten about. I figured it was time for a new twist and with the addition of Cassidy, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to create that twist. I've already got the basic outline of Fleur/Cassidy's past written out, but it's subject to change. I'll be getting into it in the next chapter.

Thank you to all my readers and reviewers!


	17. Chapter 17

_Fleur took a small sip of her hot chocolate and gazed around the bustling coffee shop. While the place was not very large, it still brimmed with activity during this late lunch hour, and she took to watching the harried customers order their coffee and leave as soon as it was ready. Hardly anyone sat down; whether it was because their breaks were almost over or they did not have anyone to sit with, she didn't know, nor did she honestly care. Whatever these people's lives were like, they had no direct impact on her own, and vice versa. It was very likely that she would never see the hassled-looking businesswoman who had just exited the shop ever again. _

_The people of Manhattan always seemed to be on the move, were always in a rush for something, while Fleur preferred to sit back and go with the flow. At that precise moment she had nothing to do anyway, as she was spending her Easter break in a city where her grandparents were the only people she knew. She was in an incredibly different environment, and she liked it; she liked not knowing anyone, and that no one knew her. At Hogwarts she was surrounded by the same people every day for ten months, and at Kieran's house her muggle friends were always around. Even at Apolline's house she couldn't walk down the street without someone waving a happy greeting at her. However, in that coffee shop, in the heart of Manhattan, Fleur could go unnoticed, unseen, and was free to do what she wanted without the judgments of others. She could be someone else entirely and no one would know the difference (truth). _

_Taking another sip of her drink, Fleur's eyes flew towards the door when she heard it open for the fiftieth time, curious to see how hurried the shop's next customer would be. She was surprised when four teenage girls stepped inside, for the majority of the shop's customers had been businessmen on their lunch breaks. Fleur watched curiously as they went to the counter, ordered their drinks, and moved to sit in the booth next to the window on the other side of the shop. They were the first people to actually sit down since she had arrived twenty minutes ago. _

_Leaning back in her chair, Fleur surreptitiously watched the four attractive girls. Though she couldn't hear what they were saying over the dying bustle of the shop, she knew it was something funny by the way they kept giggling. _

_With contempt, she imagined whatever they were laughing at had to do with someone else's humiliation or pain. She was no stranger to people with money and she could tell by their style of clothing and perfectly maintained appearance that they weren't either. These girls were exactly the kind of people she socialized with at her father's parties during the summer; selfish, vain, cruel, and annoying. _

_Tearing her eyes away from the high-spirited girls, Fleur took to gazing at the shop girl behind the counter, whose job it was to prepare the coffee. When she had purchased her hot chocolate earlier, she caught sight of the girl's name tag, which read 'Jessie.' Jessie was staring the girls with a wistful gleam in her eyes and Fleur wondered if they went to school together. _

_The cell phone in the blonde's jacket pocket suddenly vibrated. Her body jerked, startled, and some hot chocolate sloshed out through the lid and onto her lap. "Damn it!" Fleur muttered irritably to herself as she simultaneously fished in her pocket for her phone and pulled out several napkins from the dispenser. Though the cell phone was hers (a gift from Gabrielle for her fifteenth birthday), she still hadn't grown accustomed to the way it always suddenly vibrated, and was caught off guard whenever it happened. _

_Flipping the black phone open, Fleur saw that her grandmother Charlotte had sent her a text message. She clicked on the 'Read' icon while she pressed three napkins to her damp thigh. _

"_I hope the coffee spill was worth the person who texted you."_

_Fleur looked up from the screen and saw the prettiest of the four girls standing in front of her, the right side of her mouth curved into a toothless grin. After gaping with her mouth slightly open for a moment, she mentally shook herself out of it and automatically slipped into the all-polite role she played at her Kieran's parties. _

"_Ehm, yeah, I guess. It's good value to know that afternoon mass ended early so my grandparents will be home in the next thirty minutes or so," she said, nodding her head as she closed her phone and placed it back in her pocket, where her fingers brushed against her wand. _

_A wide smile slowly slid onto the brunette's face as Fleur spoke, and she dropped into the chair across from her without waiting for an invite. "You're British," she observed brightly, as though it was the most interesting thing that could have happened. She leaned forward against the table and rested her weight on her upper arms. _

"_Technically I'm American," Fleur said matter-of-factly. This wasn't the first time since her arrival two days ago that people had pointed out her accent. _

"_Really now?" she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. _

_Nodding, Fleur tossed the damp napkins on the table and inspected her jeans for any evidence of obvious stains. "I'm half American and half French, but I live in England with my dad," she stated, satisfied that no one would be able to see the light brown stain on her upper thigh unless they were looking for it. _

_The brunette smiled, appearing impressed with her heritage. "That's pretty cool," she said, nodding her head approvingly. "Are you just visiting then? We're on spring break here."_

_Fleur nodded again while draining the last of her hot chocolate. "I'm staying with my grandparents for the week before I go back to school," she confirmed, wiping her mouth with a napkin. Glancing over the girl's shoulder, she noticed Jessie staring enviously at her and she quickly looked away. "I'm Fleur," she introduced herself._

"_Love the name. I'm Cassidy." Smiling softly, she bit her lip and ran her eyes all along the blonde's upper body, lingering for a moment longer on her breasts and lips._

_Fleur scratched the back of her neck, feeling awkward under the scrutiny. She couldn't tell if Cassidy was running a silent assessment to pass a judgment, or if it was the same kind of look the boys at Hogwarts gave her when they were attracted to her. Either way she felt uncomfortable. _

"_So, er, what's up?" she asked, hoping the brunette would realize she was staring and stop. Also, she was rather curious to find out why Cassidy had approached her. _

_Tearing her eyes away from Fleur's lips, Cassidy grinned and shook her head. "I saw you sitting by yourself and was wondering if you wanted to join us." Without looking over her shoulder, she pointed a finger at her friends._

_Glancing at the table, Fleur saw the three other girls closely watching their interaction. One of them smiled and offered a small wave when she noticed her looking. The blonde's brow furrowed a tick as she thought of how unappealing it would be to spend the rest of her afternoon with those girls. _

"_Thanks, but I was actually just about to leave," she declined, tapping her empty cup against the table as though it would play for further indication. "My grandfather's taking me to a movie later so I should probably get back anyway." _

"_That's cool," Cassidy said casually, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. "You don't get to see too many movies where you're from anyway." Her eyes darted down to the pocket concealing Fleur's wand and she gave her a pointed look. "Hogwarts, right?"_

_Fleur's jaw dropped and she goggled at the brunette. "Sorry?" she sputtered dumbly. _

_Shrugging airily, Cassidy grinned as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I go to Salem Institute," she said quietly, glancing around cautiously to make sure no one was listening. Jessie was still staring at them, but was too far away to hear the brunette's soft-spoken voice. "One of my electives is Magical Perception, it teaches us to become aware of our magical surroundings."_

_Fleur wasn't entirely sure what an elective was, but she assumed Magical Perception was a class at Salem Institute, which she had, in fact, heard of. Hermione spent much of her leisure time in fourth year researching other Wizarding schools, and had mentioned Salem to her quite a few times. An uncomfortable pain shot through her chest at the thought of Hermione, and she gazed sadly at her empty cup, no longer aware of Cassidy's presence._

_The entire premise of visiting her grandparents in New York over the break was to spend some time away from Hermione. Though nothing had changed between them since Fleur confessed her feelings through a kiss two months ago, she knew she needed to move on, get over Hermione. It was like a never ending stab to the heart being so emotionally close to the brunette, but not having anything more than that between them. She hoped that some time apart might ease her constant agony. Unfortunately it only added to her misery, for she missed Hermione so terribly that it felt like a part of her soul was slowly being peeled away. And it had only been two days since she last saw her._

"_I have to go," Fleur said abruptly, warm tears pricking her eyes as she stood up. A holiday to New York would have great fun with Hermione by her side, but she had turned down the brunette's offer to accompany her. "It was nice meeting you though." She needed to get out of there before she had another Hermione-related breakdown. _

_Following Fleur's lead, Cassidy quickly climbed off her chair and ignored Jessie's call that her coffee was ready as she followed the blonde to the entrance. "Wait, are you sure you have to go?" she asked hurriedly, grasping Fleur's arm to stop her from leaving._

_The shift from casual coolness to slight desperation in Cassidy's voice made Fleur halt. She turned around and curiously examined the shorter girl, who seemed to have realized how she sounded and grew confused about it herself._

"_Yeah, I'm sorry," she apologized, mustering as much sincerity as she could. She didn't want to hurt Cassidy's feelings by taking off so suddenly. "I just…I have a lot of stuff going on right now." Images of Hermione flashed across her eyes and she choked back a sob. _

"_It's cool." Cassidy breezed, sounding much more casual than she had moments before. "It was nice meeting you too."_

_Offering the girl one last smile, Fleur stepped out of the shop, wiping away a stray tear the moment it fell. _

Fleur scowled down at her Charms assignment when she heard another tinkle of laughter sound from two couches over in the common room. Slamming her quill down, she rested her elbows against the table's surface and used her fingertips to massage gentle circles against her temple. It was becoming increasingly difficult to do perform any productive activity while Hermione and Cassidy giggled their way through their homework.

Struggling to quell her jealousy, she picked up her quill and tried to distract herself by completing the long essay Flitwick had assigned that day. However, when Hermione began laughing loudly at something Cassidy said, Fleur felt a staggering pain in her chest and she quickly climbed to her feet, intending to go straight to their dormitory for some quiet and relief.

It wasn't Hermione spending a lot time with Cassidy that upset her so much; it was the fact that she didn't include her in it. For the past three nights Hermione and Cassidy had excused themselves from dinner to go study on their own, as the younger brunette needed help catching up in some of her classes. Fleur would have been more understanding if Hermione would actually talk about it. However, whenever she asked how the studying was going, the older girl would shrug and reply with an offhand, "fine."

Things seemed to be quickly changing between them; not two weeks ago Hermione would tell her everything that had gone on in her day and confide all of her feelings. Now, the other the girl would never tell her what was going on, never share her emotions with Fleur, who was growing more and more apprehensive. Christmas day was the day things began to change, but what was going on inside Hermione's head to make her act so differently around her?

"Where are you going, Fleur?"

Turning around, Fleur saw Hermione and Cassidy peering at her over the couch. Remnants of her girlfriend's last laugh remained on her lips as she stared happily at the blonde without any idea of her anxious thoughts or relapsing emotions of anger.

"Dormitory," she said steadily, pointing her index finger at the staircase. Shrugging as though it were nothing, she plastered on a light-hearted grin.

Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she examined Fleur. After sparing Cassidy a quick glance, she climbed off the couch and moved towards the younger girl. "I'll come with you," she said, pressing her cool fingertips against the back of Fleur's hand.

Unable to stop the soft smile lifting the left corner of her mouth, Fleur slipped her hand into the brunette's, giving her a thankful look. This was why she knew there was no reason to be jealous; Hermione loved her, cared about her. Perhaps her avoidance with Cassidy was all in Fleur's head.

"Are you guys finished studying?" she asked, flicking her eyes towards Cassidy, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression.

"Ehm," Hermione appeared uneasy for a moment and she too glanced at the other girl, "will you be able to write the translations on your own?" she asked uncertainly.

Cassidy nodded. "I'll ask Seamus for help if I need it."

Looking relieved, Hermione smiled and allowed Fleur to lead her through the rowdy common room to the staircase, pausing to berate Jeremiah and Travis for telling more of their crude jokes. She tightened her grip on the blonde's hand as they made their way up the stairs and into their dormitory.

"What's wrong, Fleur?" she immediately asked the moment after she closed the door.

Pulling Hermione towards her bed, the blonde shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she said brightly, letting go of her hand and kicking off her shoes. After seeing how Hermione stopped helping Cassidy with her homework because she knew something was wrong with Fleur had raised her mood considerably.

A perplexed expression slid onto the brunette's face as Fleur lied down and sighed contently against her pillows. She knew she had confused Hermione with her honest change of emotion.

"Are you sure? Because if you need to talk…" Hermione trailed off uncertainly, sitting at the edge of the bed and resting a hand against Fleur's upper stomach.

Taking Hermione's hand in her own, the blonde smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine, honestly. I just needed a break from my Charms homework." It seemed stupid and unnecessary to tell the other girl about her jealousy, especially since it would send her back in the direction of the person she was trying so hard not to be anymore.

Hermione's brow was still furrowed in uncertainty, and she appeared to be contemplating whether she should question Fleur's honesty or not. However, after several moments of watching Fleur's relaxed smile, her expression softened. "You promise you'll tell me if something's bothering you, right?" she asked.

"Of course," Fleur lied. The defiant part in her kept saying if Hermione would never tell her what was going on in her life anymore, then there was no reason she should indulge on her own. However, she tried to stifle that emotion by reasoning that Hermione really didn't need to know everything that was wrong with her if it was the parts of herself she was shying away from.

"Well all right," Hermione said. She smiled and leaned down, pressing her lips gently against Fleur's, but pulling back before the kiss was deepened. "Do you need help with your Charms essay?"

Wishing the kiss would have lasted longer, Fleur considered pulling the other girl back down against before realizing that she still had an overwhelming amount of homework, all due within the next day or two. She honestly couldn't find it in herself to care, however, as this was the first night in five days she and Hermione were alone in their dormitory together.

Her newly brightened mood began to sink back into jealousy and irritation as she thought about how Cassidy was using all of Hermione's free time to get help in the classes she was behind on. Fleur felt like her girlfriend was putting her at the bottom of her priorities list, and Cassidy at the top, which stung. Every conversation they had had over the past few days was brief and unemotional, as though they were merely casual friends passing by one another and not in an actual relationship.

"Fleur, what's wrong?" Hermione asked concernedly, as she saw the blonde's smile transition into a dark frown.

Jerking her hand out of the older girl's, Fleur sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and grabbed the half-empty glass of water from her nightstand. She missed the flash of hurt on Hermione's face as she took large gulps of the warm liquid in attempt to soothe the growing lump in her throat.

"I have to go see Matt." Choking on the last gulp, she coughed but jumped off the bed like she had been shocked when the brunette began to pat her back. "I forgot I was supposed to meet him for his corridor patrol," she quickly backtracked after seeing Hermione's brow furrow is hurt. It was a lie, of course, but she needed to get away from the other girl before she voiced her jealousy and said something she would regret.

Placing a wet kiss on Hermione's cheek, she tried to smile reassuringly but was unable to stop choking. She held the back of her hand to her mouth and continued to cough. "Water must've gone down the wrong pipe," she sputtered, turning her head and coughing into her arm now.

Hermione stood up and placed a tentative hand on the blonde's upper back, and when Fleur didn't pull away, she began to rub gentle circles. "Why don't you lie down," she suggested, trying to lead the other girl back to her bed.

"It's good—I'm fine," Fleur declined, resisting Hermione's caring push. Hacking, she felt her toes go numb and she wiggled them furiously in her dress shoes to try and restore blood flow.

"Fleur, really, I think you should lie down," she insisted, pressing against the other girl more firmly.

Her fingertips began to tingle just as the numbness spread to the soles of her feet. Stumbling, Fleur fell against Hermione, who struggled to hold her up. With each painful cough, she seemed to lose feeling in a different body part. It was like that uncomfortable numbness her foot felt when she sat on it incorrectly, only it was shooting through her entire body.

"Bed might be good," she slurred through her hacking. Her lips were going numb as well, and black dots began to litter her vision as a loud ringing occurred in her ears. Fleur wasn't even aware that Hermione had already dropped her on her bed and was completely deaf to the words the distressed brunette was exclaiming.

Slowly turning her head, she gazed at the empty glass sitting on her nightstand through heavy-lidded eyes. Not only was her body void of feeling, but her emotions had come to a standstill as well. She felt like she was floating in the air, for she couldn't feel the bed beneath her. Fleur couldn't even summon the horror she should have felt at the knowledge that someone had just poisoned her.

_Fleur crossed her arms and pulled her jacket tighter against her body, attempting to maintain some warmth in the freezing, night air. After the movie was over, her grandfather Jordan offered to go and get the car while she waited inside the warm theater. While she was waiting, however, she noticed three, middle-aged men leering at her from just outside the restroom. Their attention made her so uncomfortable that she decided to go brave the cold and wait outside._

_Resting her weight against the wall, she watched carefully for Jordan and his midnight blue SUV. More than a few people spared her a second glance when they caught sight of her tall, blonde frame leaning casually against the wall, but no one stopped to talk to her. She was used to this kind of attention from the boys at Hogwarts; she didn't mind it as much as the older men staring at her. _

"_Hey."_

_Fleur glanced next her, expecting that one of the boys staring at her had finally found the courage to approach her, and did a double-take when she saw Cassidy leaning against the wall grinning at her. "Er, hi." She didn't know what else to say._

"_Where's your grandfather?" she asked casually, looking around with her eyes as though she expected to see an old man coming towards them._

"_Getting the car," Fleur swiftly responded, hoping the other girl didn't think she was lying about spending time with Jordan. She wanted to ask Cassidy what she was doing there but didn't want to appear rude, so she decided not to question it._

"_Oh, so you're done with your movie then?"_

_Fleur nodded, running a hand through her windswept hair while she repeatedly glanced at the road ten meters ahead. She couldn't believe that with the city's enormous size she had run into Cassidy again, a girl who she was keen to never see again. _

"_I was just visiting a friend of mine who works here," Cassidy stated, pointing inside the building, "but her shift was starting back up again so I decided to leave."_

_Smiling politely, Fleur was extremely happy to see Jordan pull up at the curb. "My grandfather's here," she said, gesturing at the grey-haired man climbing out of the SUV. Walking backwards so that her front was to Cassidy, she offered a small wave. "But it was nice seeing you again." _

_The brunette appeared to be having an internal battle, a battle which Fleur did not plan to stay and witness the victorious winner. However, right as she turned around Cassidy seemed to make up her mind. _

"_Are you busy right now?" she asked abruptly._

_Jordan, who had seen Fleur socializing with someone, had made his way over and overheard Cassidy's question. "Your grandmother and I are going to bed early tonight for a six a.m. mass tomorrow morning, so if you want to go out it's all right," he said with the wheezy voice of someone who spent much of his younger years with a cigarette in his fingers._

_A fake smile plastered itself on Fleur's face as she repeatedly blinked, unsure of how to respond. It was too bad she hadn't shown any earlier interest in the Catholic religion and church or else she would have offered to go with them. "That would be great," she said with false enthusiasm. _

_Fifteen minutes later, Fleur found herself sitting next to Cassidy in the backseat of her driver's car. It was not a limousine like she expected it to be, but just a regular car that the brunette was chauffeured around in when she wasn't in school. _

_Taking a silent, deep breath, Fleur glanced at the other girl out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't deny that Cassidy was incredibly good-looking, with her perfect flowing hair and flawless facial features. However, it was the eyes that made Fleur slightly apprehensive; the innocent, doe eyes Cassidy possessed screamed of dark mischief and manipulation. She got the feeling there was more to the brunette than she was letting on. _

"_So where are we going?" Fleur asked, breaking the surprisingly comfortable silence. _

_Cassidy caught her eye and grinned. "A party sound good?" she asked casually._

_Flashing back to her earlier thoughts about how she could be anybody she wanted in this city, Fleur realized this was the perfect opportunity to do so. While she wasn't normally a huge fan of parties, especially the kind that Cassidy most likely attended, she figured it would be a good chance to live the life of someone else, a life of someone who wasn't in love with Hermione. _

"_A party sounds great," she smiled. "Who's having it?" She realized there was no point in asking that question as she didn't know anyone in the city._

"_That girl from the café today, Jessie," she said airily._

_Frowning, Fleur remembered how Cassidy hadn't spoken more than two words to Jessie in the coffee shop. Perhaps Jessie invited her after she left; however, looking at her mischievous expression, Fleur knew that wasn't the case. _

"_I didn't realize you guys knew each other," she said casually._

"_Oh, we don't." Cassidy chuckled. "We're crashing."_

_The real Fleur would have questioned it, even would have tried to talk her out of it, but the fake Fleur decided that crashing a party sounded like good fun. "Why are we crashing?" she asked curiously._

_Shrugging, Cassidy reached forward and pulled a bottle of dark brown liquid from the seat pocket. "We hooked up over winter break after I got drunk and stumbled into that café. The next morning I lied and told her I didn't remember what happened, but a few nights later she crashed a party I was throwing," she explained, pulling the stopper out of the bottle. _

"_And you're getting your revenge by crashing _her_ party?"_

_Grinning, Cassidy held the bottle to her lips and took a large swig. It was clear she was a practiced drinker by the way she kept her grimace to herself. "Not exactly," she said, offering the bottle to Fleur, who accepted it with tentative hands. "Hold your nose and drink it fast," she advised when the blonde merely stared at the sloshing liquid._

"_Then why?" Following Cassidy's advice, Fleur pinched her nose, pushed the bottle to her lips and tilted her head back. It tasted worse than the potions Madam Pomfrey used on her whenever she was sick, and she sputtered and gasped, battling the urge to throw up. Features stretching into an expression of disgust, she gagged and took deep breaths as the alcohol burned its way down to her stomach, where it settled like a stationary fireball. _

Hermione gasped when Fleur's unconscious body began twitching. Her pale lips opened and she dry-heaved, causing the terrified brunette to tighten her grip on Fleur's hand. "Madam Pomfrey!" she shrieked.

Madam Pomfrey immediately rushed out of her office and was by Hermione's side in a flash. "What is it?" she asked hurriedly, examining Fleur's body for any signs of trauma.

"What's happening to her? Why is she gagging?" Hermione asked shrilly, staring down at the writhing blonde with tears streaming down her face.

Gazing at the back of the brunette's head for several moments sympathetically, Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips grimly. "It's a side effect to Memorabilia, the potion used for remembrance. While the taker is unconscious, their physical body may experience a reaction from their dream, usually extreme. It will pass," she reassured, placing a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Sure enough, Fleur's body ceased twitching against the mattress a moment later and Hermione slumped back in her chair in relief. There were a million questions she wanted to ask the older woman, questions about Memorabilia, which she had never even heard of until her arrival twenty minutes ago. She couldn't find the strength to ask though, as she was petrified of the answer. What if it was dangerous and it harmed Fleur in some way? What if it held a different effect against half-breeds?

Using the sleeve of her jumper, she wiped the tears off her face and sniffed. Fear was pressing against her chest so intense that it was suffocating her lungs, making each breath she took a choking gasp for life.

Who had slipped Memorabilia in Fleur's glass of water and what were they trying to accomplish? What was the point in targeting a sixteen-year-old girl who had complete recollection of her life? Why a memory modification reversal potion?

These questions weighed down heavily on her as she gazed at her unconscious girlfriend. She didn't even notice Madam Pomfrey return to her office after speaking several more comforting words she hadn't bothered to listen to.

"Wake up, Fleur," she whispered. "Please wake up."

"_God, that was revolting!" Fleur exclaimed. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she handed the bottle back to Cassidy, who took another skillful swig. She gave her a disgusted look. "You're completely mad to drink that stuff, you know."_

_Laughing, Cassidy restored the stopper and returned the bottle to the seat pocket. "You get used to it," she breezed, slouching back against the beige leather seat. _

"_So you do this often, do you?" asked an unsurprised Fleur. Following Cassidy's lead, she too slouched back in her chair, feeling the burning in her stomach trickle into soothing warmth as it spread up her torso. _

_She shrugged uncaringly. "It's fun."_

"_I'll bet."_

_Gazing at the lump in the passenger seat pocket, she was sorely tempted to take another drink. A pleasant relaxed feeling had taken over her body, but she felt herself get worked up when she thought of the mountainous disapproval Hermione would have when she found out she drank alcohol. _

"_Give me some more, will you?" she requested, desperate to rid the hole in heart from thinking about Hermione. _

_Cassidy arched an eyebrow but said nothing as she passed the corked bottle back to Fleur, who was grateful the brunette didn't question her reasoning. _

_The second swig was just as terrible as the first, but at least she knew what to expect this time. She coughed and sputtered as the alcohol flamed a scorching path down her throat, and formed the same disgusted expression she had on her first swig. Fleur didn't remove the bottle from her lips, but took another burning gulp. "That is absolutely vile," she muttered, holding the back of her hand against her mouth again, as though it would help with the urge to throw up. _

"_Yet you keep drinking it."_

_Narrowing her eyes playfully, Fleur's lips pulled into a left-sided smile. "Liquid relief, right?" she asked, flashes of Hermione dancing across her vision. _

_Cassidy tilted her head and gave the blonde a curious look. "Drowning your sorrows in a bottle of 151 isn't healthy, you know."_

"_I suppose you're right." After staring expressionless at the bottle for a moment, she shrugged, lifted it to her lips, and took another brief swig before choking and handing it back to the other girl. "But neither is using me to crash a party and make some girl miserably jealous."_

_Raising an eyebrow, Cassidy returned the bottle back to the seat pocket without taking another drink. "First off, I'm not _using_ you—god knows I can make her jealous all on my own—and second: if you hadn't just had the equivalent of four shots of alcohol, would you still be calling me on my intentions?" _

_Fleur shook her head firmly. "Most definitely not." She could feel herself grow more and more buzzed as each moment passed, and with the buzz sensation came a newfound confidence she never knew she could have. _

_Laughing, Cassidy reached forward and lowered the heat on the control set in front of the middle seat. "Liquid courage as well." She settled back in her seat and rested her head against the headrest so that she was facing the blonde. "So what are you running away from?" she asked quietly, her grey eyes flashing under each street light they drove by._

_Returning the gaze steadily, Fleur smiled enticingly, slipping even further into the role of anti-Fleur. "The one, true thing in my life that fate hasn't seen fit to give me," she whispered passionately. Her eyes drifted down to Cassidy's plush, pink lips. There was a shiny layer of lip gloss coating the surface, and she was sorely tempted to lean forward and suck her bottom lip into her mouth._

"_Love?"_

_Gaze still glued to Cassidy's lips, Fleur nodded. She wondered what those lips would feel like pressed firmly against her own, against her neck, against her entire body. The growing wetness between her legs indicated she wanted to find out. "You prefer girls, right?" she asked huskily. _

_A smirk played at the edges of Cassidy's mouth. "And how did you figure that one out?" she asked in a low voice. _

"_I saw the way you were looking at me earlier. I didn't want to assume you were a lesbian, but your story about Jessie gave you away." Fleur didn't realize that her words were slurring together slightly. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she slid onto the middle seat._

"_Your heritage makes a lot of people look at you a certain way," Cassidy said, her eyes flicking down as the blonde slid her left hand from her knee to her upper thigh._

"_What?" Fleur asked absently. She wished the other girl had decided to wear a skirt today; she wanted to touch her skin without the barrier of clothing. Realizing the alternative, she moved her hand up and slipped up underneath Cassidy's shirt._

"_Oh…" She blinked, looking at Fleur curiously. Glancing down at the hand that had just travelled under her shirt, she suppressed a pleasurable shudder. "Never mind."_

_Sliding her hand around so it was pressed flat against the brunette's stomach, Fleur bit her lip. "God, who knew that alcohol would make me so horny?" she said to herself, amused. "Are you horny?" she asked casually, as though it was an ordinary question._

_Cassidy pressed the tip of her tongue to the corner of her top lip. "Everything about you makes me horny," she said, running her fingertips along Fleur's clothed arm. _

_Fleur grinned and let her hand slide between the other girl's breasts, caressing up and down her torso. So far, both of Cassidy's hands had remained against the seat, and she was aching for them to touch her beneath her clothes, over her clothes, wherever they could reach. "You going to take advantage of me?" asked the aroused blonde. _

"_Yes," she responded without skipping a beat. Moving her hand, she pressed the red release button for her seatbelt and pushed Fleur away so it could slide off without any problem. _

_Licking her lips, Fleur tilted her head and quickly leaned forward, where Cassidy met her halfway. There was nothing gentle about the way their lips collided and moved together. Fleur was caught in the sudden realization that Cassidy was the only other person she had kissed other than Hermione. Moving her lips more vigorously against the other girl's, she hoped it would be enough to expel any thoughts of her best friend. What would Hermione think of her if she found out she had drunkenly made out with a girl she not only just met, but wasn't sure if she even liked?_

"She still out of it?"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw Cassidy slowly emerge from the shadows of the dark room into a dim ray of moonlight. "You'll get detention if a teacher catches you out of bed," she said blankly, turning back to Fleur's sleeping body. It had been more than two hours and the younger girl still hadn't woken up.

Shrugging, Cassidy lifted a chair and set it down quietly right next to Hermione's. "It's hard for me to care about that when I know you're up here all alone."

"I'm not alone," she said hollowly, gazing at the blonde.

"Of course," Cassidy conceded. She sat down in the hard, wooden chair and rested a comforting hand on Hermione's knee. "How are you doing?" she asked gently.

Hermione stared at her girlfriend's lifeless body and was suddenly overcome with disgust. How could Fleur's lifeless body look so peaceful in the beaming moonlight? How could such visual serenity cause Hermione to feel so worried and scared? It was wrong how that worked.

"Quite terribly to be perfectly honest." Laughing humorlessly, she ran a hand through her unkempt hair and faced the other girl. "I know she's going to be fine, I _know_ it, but I still can't stop feeling this way." Fresh tears pricked her eyes. "The longer she's asleep, the more I feel like she's never going to wake up."

Cassidy squeezed Hermione's knee once before moving her hand away. "She'll wake up, Hermione, I promise."

"But why would anybody put Memorabilia in her water? Fleur's been through so much already, why is someone trying to taint her mind with false memories?" she whispered passionately.

"What do you mean?"

"Someone is trying to place false memories in her mind, make her remember things that aren't true," she said furiously. Two hours of no one's company beside her own and her unconscious girlfriend had given her plenty of time to think, and that was the conclusion she drew.

The moment Hermione turned away, Cassidy's eyebrow arched and the right corner of her mouth rose into a smirk. "I don't think it works that way." Her gentle voice contrasted sharply with her expression of dark amusement.

Her features softened into sympathy the moment Hermione glanced back at her. "Do you know about Memorabilia?" she asked.

Cassidy nodded. "We studied it at Salem. It was created during You-Know-Who's first reign, people drank a small dose every night before bed as a tool to reverse any memory modification someone might possibly have put on them that day. It didn't extend to foreign countries though."

"That's why I've never heard of it," Hermione realized. "Can it create false memories?"

"If the user hasn't suffered any memory modification, then all they have is a dreamless sleep."

"Oh…" Biting her bottom lip, Hermione flashed back to Fleur's violent twitching reaction. Her disbelief was still thick, but could it possibly be true that the blonde was remembering bits and pieces of her past someone might have removed from her memory? And if so, how horrifying were those events if every memory of them had to be modified right out? What could Fleur have possibly gone through that was so terrible? Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Hermione desperately tried to suppress all those thoughts, as it would do nothing but agitate her anxiety. It sent tendrils of agony straight to heart when she thought of what Fleur might have experienced.

They were silent for several minutes. Hermione was incredibly grateful for Cassidy's company; the lack of verbal human contact while she was in such a delicate state was just another thing wearing thin on her. She was touched that the other girl had snuck through the corridors to visit her, and she realized that not even Harry and Ron would do that for her, and she considered them her best friends. She knew Matthew would have stayed if he could, but McGonagall insisted he patrol the corridors that evening.

"Fleur doesn't know how jealous I am of her and Matthew's connection," Hermione stated weakly, breaking the silence.

Cassidy looked at her, brow furrowing at the sight of a lone tear trailing slowly down her face. Extending a hand, she used her thumb and tenderly wiped the tear away. With her eyes, she silently encouraged Hermione to continue.

"He was her first real relationship; he got more of Fleur's firsts than anybody else. She tells him things before she even thinks of telling them to me." Hermione's heart jerked painfully, and she used her damp sleeve to wipe away another fallen tear. "I know she loves me, so on some level it's okay that she goes to him for things. But he has a part of her I know I can never touch; he was there for her when she refused to let me in, he's reached her in ways that I never have." Her bitter laugh turned into a choked sob Cassidy quickly reached forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"God, Christmas was the worst. I watched him completely tear her apart, twist her emotions so much that I thought she would never recover. In the end he got to her and gave her the motivation she needed to change. But that's just it though, it was supposed to be _me_ who did that for her, everyone thought it would be me…but it was him."

She swallowed hard, mustering a grateful smile at Cassidy, who nodded understandingly. "He's in love with her…and she has no idea. Of any of it really. I'm being as supportive of her as I can, I'm pushing my feelings aside for the sake of her own, but it seems the more I do that, the more she grows closer to him."

Cassidy was silent for several moments. Her brow was furrowed and she was staring hard at the armrest as she struggled to formulate a correct response. "Fleur really does love you, Hermione, and if you feel as though she's pushing you away, maybe she has a good reason for it. Maybe she feels like you're the one pushing her away."

"But I'm not!" she instantly denied. "I would never do that!"

"You've been spending a lot of time with me these past few days, maybe she's feeling neglected. And she's probably getting the fact that you're pushing your own feelings aside, but she might be misinterpreting it as you not being honest with her," Cassidy continued.

Frowning, Hermione looked away, missing the other girl's malicious smirk. She realized Cassidy had just hit the problem dead on; she had been spending most of her free time with the other brunette and didn't bother to think what Fleur might have felt about it. She had also been keeping a lot of her feelings bottled up, but only for the blonde's sake.

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to respond, a groan issued from Fleur's mouth. Jerking her head around to face the younger girl, she was ecstatic to see her eyes open, blinking rapidly to help wake herself up.

The daunting weight which had been resting on her shoulders for the past few hours was suddenly lifted and her hands shook with adrenaline sparked relief. With Cassidy's words in mind, Hermione knew she would be completely honest with Fleur from then on, regardless of whether she thought it necessary or to say or not. The last thing she ever wanted to do was push her away.

* * *

Fleur blinked her eyes rapidly in a struggle to maintain consciousness. Seeing Hermione's red, puffy eyes, even through the dark was enough motivation to battle the urge to go back to sleep and continue the sexual dream she was having about Cassidy.

Only, she had a feeling it wasn't a dream; it had been far too realistic to be dream quality. She could still feel Cassidy's lips all over her body, could still feel those fingers probing between her legs…

"_Wait," Fleur muttered through the dark. She had been completely lost in the sensations her body was experiencing, but as soon as Cassidy's hand strayed between her legs a red flag went off._

_Cassidy gently tugged on the blonde's nipple using her teeth and smiled at the sharp gasp it procured. She continued to thrust her wetness against Fleur's naked thigh. "What?" she panted, stalling her hand and resting it against her inner thigh._

_Groaning pleasurably as the other girl moved her lips back to her neck, Fleur unconsciously pulled on Cassidy's hips, helping her grind more firmly against her thigh. The feeling of the brunette's wetness coating her skin was possibly the most erotic sensation she had ever experienced, and knowing Cassidy was gaining pleasure because of her doubled her already intense arousal._

"_I'm a virgin," she slurred, digging her nails into the other girl's hips when she scraped her teeth along her earlobe._

_The party they were crashing still raged on just outside the locked bedroom door, but both girls remained oblivious. _

_The feel of Cassidy's breasts rubbing against her own, as well as the wetness streaked across her thigh, was making Fleur lose coherency at a steady rate. However, even in her intoxicated state she knew when she was about to cross a line. Her mind and actions felt like a blurry mess, and her body was screaming at her to take it all the way, but distorted images of Hermione kept slipping across her field of vision; she felt as though losing her virginity to someone she hardly knew would be an act of betrayal. _

"_Fingering is third base," Cassidy breathed, grunting when Fleur raked her fingernails down her back, "not a virginity loss."_

"_Is that what third base is?" she asked, momentarily distracted. "I knew what first and second were but I could never figure out—" _

_Cassidy's lips collided with Fleur's, cutting her off, just as she plunged a finger deep inside of her._

Fleur's could still feel Cassidy's finger inside her, bringing her more pleasure than she could ever experience by her own hand. She quickly tried to dispel the images of what she prayed was a dream, and faced her relieved girlfriend.

"Hey," she croaked, surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded. Looking around, she was unsurprised to find herself in a dark Hospital Wing. She smiled softly at Hermione, grateful that it was her she had woken up to. After that illusion of Cassidy…she wasn't sure if she was ready to face the other girl. Dream or not, it spoke volumes on her feelings toward Cassidy. Had she and her met before? Was she attracted to her? Had she actually gone that far with her? Should she tell Hermione?

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she hardly even wondered what kind of poison her water had been spiked with or how serious it might have been.

"Hi," Hermione whispered in a choked voice. Leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss on the blonde's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Disgustingly…" Fleur trailed off when Hermione leaned back and she caught sight of Cassidy for the first time, "…full," she finished softly.

Once again, she could feel the other girl's finger plunging in and out of her, and a dead weight began to settle over her shoulders. Her heart thundered against her chest as she watched Cassidy bite down on her bottom lip for a moment before smiling wickedly.

Ten million questions popped into Fleur's mind. They aggressively attacked her vision, each one desperately fighting for priority over the others. Despite her internal war, however, she kept her mouth closed and focused her attention back on Hermione. Instead of helping, it made her feel even worse. How much had she betrayed the other girl?

"You'll be all right," Hermione reassured, slipping her hand over Fleur's.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier," she apologized, remembering she had passed in their dormitory with only Hermione there.

The left side of the brunette's mouth rose into a lopsided smile, as though she couldn't believe Fleur was apologizing for something entirely not her fault. "It's all right," she said.

Mustering a smile, Fleur's eyes darted behind Hermione and she stared blankly at Cassidy, who winked secretively. She was overcome with dread as she wondered what else she had forgotten. Easter break had been an entire week after all, and she was almost positive that had taken place on Monday.

It was all piecing together now, and Fleur knew it wasn't a good thing. What was Cassidy so keen for her to remember?

* * *

A/N: I know this chapter didn't have much Hermione/Fleur in it, but I'll hopefully be making up for it in the next chapter. I decided not to write Fleur/Cassidy's entire sex scene because it really wasn't necessary, and it wasn't a Hermione/Fleur scene. Also, I decided to include Hermione's real feelings about Matthew and Fleur, since I haven't addressed it before.

To clear up any confusion about the last chapter, Fleur's memory has been modified so she doesn't remember what happened at all between herself and Cassidy over break, and Cassidy is working on bringing those aspects of her memory back, which she's doing with Memorabilia.

Thank you to all my readers and reviewers!


	18. Chapter 18

Faint rays of wavering sunlight were just beginning to slip through the windows of the Hospital Wing, signaling night had finally ended and that clouds were rolling in for another snowstorm. A sleep deprived Fleur groaned unceremoniously as the irritating light penetrated her closed eyes. She looked down to see if her annoyance with the untimely sun had awoken her sleeping girlfriend. It hadn't. Hermione, her head resting awkwardly against Fleur's thigh, continued to breathe evenly through her nose, snoring with every other breath. It was a new tendency she had developed over the past few weeks whenever her sleep was troubled.

A soft curl of Hermione's hair had fallen onto her forehead. With her free hand, Fleur carefully smoothed it behind her head, where the rest of her wavy tresses were splayed across the impossibly white bed sheets. Tenderly, Fleur skimmed her fingertips along Hermione's temple, cheekbone, and jaw line, before clenching her pale hand and repeating the process with her knuckles. The angle at which she was caressing Hermione's face was too awkward to continue for long, so she let her hand drop onto her stomach and tightened her hold on the brunette's limp hand, craving the contact.

The last several hours had passed by much too slowly for Fleur's liking. Soon after she woke up from her poison induced sleep, Cassidy decided to test her luck and sneak back off to the Gryffindor common room. Fleur was perplexed by this; if Cassidy was, indeed, the one who had poisoned her, why wouldn't she stick around to assess the damage she caused? And there was certainly plenty of damage.

Hermione had tentatively explained Memorabilia and its effects, viciously snatching away Fleur's rapidly growing hopes that it had all just been a nightmare. She was grateful that Hermione did not question what she had dreamed about, for she first needed to sort out her thoughts and just exactly what happened in her dream. However, after five years of confiding every thought she had with Hermione, Fleur only found herself growing more panicked and guilty. She accomplished no productive thinking, as that had always been Hermione's strong point, examining things from every angle and view point and using her mental notes to draw a logical conclusion. The gentle prodding look of concerned curiosity as Hermione silently urged the blonde to share her lost memory ended in the older girl's poorly concealed disappointment, and a weighty addition to Fleur's guilt.

Fleur had to admit that if Hermione had not been by her side the entire night, she would have succumbed to another panic attack. She took comfort in her girlfriend's presence, and allowed herself to be distracted for short periods of time by their quiet conversations. Fleur refused to let herself think about Cassidy until she spoke with someone else about the Memorabilia. Surprisingly, and thankfully, Hermione did not speak one word about the other girl.

"Hermione," Fleur whispered. Her voice sounded strangely amplified through the absolute quiet of the Hospital Wing, and she glanced anxiously at Madam Pomfrey's office door, irrationally wondering if her whisper had woken her. Madam Pomfrey did not bustle through the door, nor did Hermione stir from troubled slumber. "Hermione, wake up," she said again, raising her voice a notch. She raised their intertwined fingers and gently nudged the brunette's shoulder.

A quiet groan issued from Hermione's throat and her eyelids twitched twice before fluttering open. Familiar concern flitted into her eyes, and her head jerked off the younger girl's thigh. "Are you okay?" she panicked. A moment later, the pain from sleeping on a chair with her head turned awkwardly caught up with her, and her free hand flew to her neck, carefully massaging it.

"I'm all right, I just wanted to wake you before that happened." Her eyes drifted down to the brunette's neck to make herself clear. It was a lie, of course; she needed her girlfriend's active company to distract herself from falling back into her masochistic thoughts.

"Oh…ow," she chuckled sheepishly. Her gaze flicked towards Fleur's lips when the blonde grinned. "How long did I sleep for?" She seemed almost apologetic for having dozed off.

"No idea. Couldn't have been too long ago, could it?" Gently releasing her grip on Hermione's hand, Fleur sat up on the bed and tugged the brunette's palm away from her neck. Using both hands, she tenderly rubbed the sore skin.

Sighing pleasurably, Hermione relaxed her shoulders and leaned further into the bed. "It feels really good when you do it," she admitted, her lips twitching into a bashful smile.

Fleur's heart raced from the words and she found herself too late to suppress a toothless grin. She gazed intently at her working hands, her head slowly leaning down. Moments later, her lips connected with the sensitive skin of Hermione's neck. She planted slow, leisurely kisses in a vertical line underneath her ear and felt her chest pull at the brunette's hitched breathing. "Other people's hands always feel better," Fleur murmured into her ear. She kissed the lobe once before pulling back and angling herself so her legs were dangling over the edge of the bed.

Placing her hands on the blonde's thighs, Hermione gazed meaningfully up at Fleur's towering form. She shook her head. "Just yours," she said seriously.

When Hermione's eyes darted toward her lips, Fleur knew what the other girl wanted, even though she would not allow herself to do anything about it under the circumstances. However, her pent up desire from the last several days, and Hermione's sincere words, had the blonde feeling incredibly wound.

With one hand, she unconsciously scratched where her tousled hair was tickling her cheek, and moved the other to grasp at v-shaped collar of Hermione's jumper. The corners of her lips pulled into the tiniest of smiles and she nodded slightly, hoping to convey that she possessed the same physical desire. When uncertainty clouded the brunette's eyes, Fleur considered yanking Hermione's lips to her own by using her jumper. She did not, however, possess the proper coordination to pull off such a stunt, and wondered if the outcome would be her smashing her lips to the older girl's chin.

"It's okay," she whispered, tenderly caressing Hermione's cheek with her fingertips. The idea of embarrassing herself in her sleep deprived state was not an attractive one.

Hermione's eyes fluttered closed for a moment before looking at the blonde, torn. "Are you _sure_ you're okay? Shouldn't you be res—?"

Abruptly, she was silenced by Fleur yanking her forward by the collar of her shirt and the feel of her unrelenting lips.

Fleur kissed her roughly, almost violently. Mental images of Cassidy and her entire reality-dream sequence continued to flash through her mind, and she wrapped her legs around Hermione's waist to bring her body even closer. She thrust her tongue out and was met with the brunette's closed lips. A split second after Hermione parted her mouth, Fleur's tongue flew inside. It wasn't enough to banish the thought of sleeping with Cassidy. The blonde grasped at Hermione's waist and pushed their hips together more tightly, shifting her own up and down to gain the friction she desired.

It was a moment later that Hermione finally started to respond to the ferocious kiss, and moved her lips with the same intensity. Fleur felt one of Hermione's hands leave her thigh and slip behind her to grip her ass. She tore her mouth away and gasped when the brunette used that hand to forcefully grind their hips together.

The beds in the Hospital Wing were high enough that Fleur and Hermione were equal in height with Fleur sitting half off the edge. Instead of pushing their lips together into another wild kiss, the blonde rested her forehead against the other girl's, and only continued to move her hips. Moments ago, she had seen the way Hermione was looking at her. There was a tenderness in those brown eyes that was obvious to Fleur, even through the heavy-lidded lust.

Fleur was sickened with herself. She felt as though the person she was trying not to be had resurfaced in a selfish desire to use Hermione's body to forget about Cassidy. She felt she had betrayed the brunette by having sex with someone she hardly knew, but wasn't she betraying Hermione _now_ by using her to distract herself from the other betrayal?

"What are you thinking?" Hermione asked softly. She pulled her hand around so it was resting back on the blonde's thigh and stilled her hips. Apparently, she had sensed Fleur's mood swing.

For just one moment Fleur wondered if she should tell Hermione about her memory with Cassidy. Her mind instantly revolted against the idea. Hadn't she hurt the brunette enough?

However, Fleur knew she couldn't lie, and she knew that she would have to tell Hermione about the memory sooner or later. A spark of hope lit up the pit of her stomach when she realized that maybe there was a way to disprove sleeping with Cassidy by getting the rest of her memories back. What if something entirely different had happened on that Monday night? After all, she had been very drunk when she and Cassidy stumbled into that deserted bedroom; could she have possibly drunk too much alcohol to remember clearly? It was quite easy to remember things that never happened; all somebody had to do was lie confidently enough.

"You're hair is getting lighter," Fleur said.

Hermione's brow furrowed and she looked adorably perplexed by the random statement. "Sorry?"

"Your hair," she lifted a hand and pinched a wavy lock of hair between her thumb and forefinger, "it's getting lighter. That's what I was thinking." She grinned, hoping that her expression was one of amusement. "Any lighter and we'll match," she exaggerated, running a hand through her own cascading mess of bed-hair. Her legs now dangled off the edge of the bed, and she swung them back and forth as she seated herself more comfortably on the bed. Hermione remained standing. "I think you should stay out of sun's way until it darkens back up. Brunette's are sexy, you know."

Several moments passed before an affectionate smile replaced Hermione's bafflement. Gazing out the window, she rubbed her chin. "What do you think about a holiday to Aruba this summer for your birthday?"

Fleur stared thoughtfully at the wall behind Hermione's head. "Hair-dye can easily remedy any blonde hair you get while we're there," she decided, very partial to the idea of going on a vacation to some place tropical with Hermione.

Hermione chuckled and nipped the younger girl's cheek. "Are you okay, Fleur?" she asked, gazing meaningfully at the blonde's face. Fleur was careful to conceal any hint of an expression that would give her away. Hermione always looked too closely, noticed too much.

Shrugging, Fleur smiled carelessly. "Tired, I guess," she answered truthfully.

Hermione nodded. She cupped the younger girl's cheek, searching her face for any signs of something more. After a moment, she pulled back, her brow pulled down just enough to notify Fleur of her frustration.

"Try and get some rest," she suggested.

Fleur allowed Hermione to guide her back down into the bed, ignoring the guilt she felt for not telling her the truth. In her mind, she repeated to herself several times that it was for Hermione's own good. It did not make her feel any better.

"You're going to stay until I'm asleep, right?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Hermione's brow softened and she gazed down fondly at her. "Of course," she whispered.

Placing a gentle kiss on Fleur's forehead, she pulled the bed covers up until they were covering most of the blonde's pajama-clad body. She then took her previous spot in the chair, and resting her cheek against the side of the mattress.

Grabbing Hermione's hand for comfort, Fleur closed her eyes, and fell asleep within seconds.

* * *

A/N: So this update is long overdue, which I am incredibly sorry for. And I apologize for the short length of this chapter, but I wanted to get something posted for my readers, and I'm going back to school in a few days so my time will be limited. I'll update when I can, and I hope this short chapter was enough to satisfy you guys. The next chapter will have more memories, and it'll reveal exactly what Cassidy is doing to Fleur and why.


	19. Chapter 19: Part One

Fleur treaded lightly on the stone floor, trying to make as little noise as possible. The silence in the deserted corridors unnerved her and she had a nasty feeling that she was going to run into somebody she did not want to. She was so uncomfortable that she pulled her wand out of the waist band of her pajama pants, muttered the spell to light the tip, and held the Marauder's Map close to her face. She breathed a silent sigh of relief and managed to relax a little when she saw nobody nearby except the person she sought.

Even with the added relief of knowing she was not about to get caught, Fleur could not manage to relax completely; she was too wound up from everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. She knew she needed to get everything off her chest before she figured out what to do next. This was why she was currently out of the Gryffindor common room after hours and wandering the eerie corridors in search of Matthew, who was fulfilling his duties as Head Boy to patrol after curfew.

Fleur was released from the Hospital Wing earlier that evening. She spent a majority of her night with Hermione, who hardly let her out of her sight, and only made a break for it when the older girl went to use the restroom. Thankfully, she did not see Cassidy for the entire night, and did not look forward to meeting up with her later in their dormitory. She was not yet sure what to feel about her.

According to Harry's map, Fleur only needed to round one more corner and Matthew would be there. She had never personally used the Marauder's Map before, but found it highly convenient, especially tonight where she needed to talk to Matthew without the prying ears of others.

The map was correct. She caught sight of the older boy just as she turned the corner. He was not too far down. After extinguishing her light, she hurried down the corridor and whispered, "Matt!"

It was quiet enough in the corridors that he heard her. He whipped around wide-eyed and wand at the ready. "Who's that?" he hissed, squinting into the darkness.

"It's me!" She moved even closer.

Matthew's eyes dawned in comprehension when he caught sight of her silvery hair. "Fleur? Is that you?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here?" His voice was strained and he peered down the hall both ways.

"There's nobody coming, don't worry," she said, storing the map inside her waistband. "I needed to talk to you."

Matthew's brow furrowed and peered down at Fleur incredulously. "Can't this wait until later? It's after hours," he said, glancing down at his watch as though to double check. "We'll both get in trouble if you're caught with me."

A small amount of panic began to settle in the pit of Fleur's stomach. She needed to talk to Matthew now; it was the only way for her to clear her head and feel better. She was desperate. "Please! This is really important!"

"I can't!" His head jerked back and forth from checking both ends of the corridor.

"Matthew…," she pleaded.

Matthew looked torn. It appeared that he, indeed, wanted to talk to the girl, as she appeared to be under a lot of stress. That was just who he was: if Fleur was in need of something from him, he would do his best to help her. However, there would be hell to pay if a professor caught her with him. He could lose his position as Head Boy. "Fleur, really, I've only got another half hour of—"

"It isn't safe in the common room!" Fleur hissed, interrupting the older boy. She understood his position, but at the same time she knew she needed to get things off her chest or she would never make it through the night. "I think I knew Cassidy before she came to Hogwarts."

"What?"

"I think I knew Cassidy bef—"

"No, I heard you!" Matthew cut her off urgently. He practically started dancing on the spot his nerves were so high strung. "I just don't understand why you would say that."

"That's what I want to talk to you about!" Fleur clarified. "She's the one who poisoned me with that Memorabilia potion!"

Matthew's features pulled into an expression of disbelief. "That is a serious accusation you're making."

"But it's true!" she insisted.

"What's your evidence?" Matthew bit his lower lip and furrowed his brow, giving Fleur his full attention.

Fleur forced herself to take a deep breath. Now, she would finally be able to explain what happened. "You remember how I can't remember much of my holiday to the States last Easter?"

His brow crunched in even further as he wracked his memory for that particular conversation. After a few seconds he nodded. "Yeah, I remember you telling me that was a bit after Hermione turned you down."

Fleur could tell he thought her memory loss had something to do with the grief she was in, and that was not what she needed him to think. "When was the last time you forgot most of a week of your life because a girl rejected you?"

"Veela thing?" he asked, confused.

"No!" Fleur managed to roll her eyes. "When I was under the potion's effect, I started remembering stuff that happened and Cassidy seemed to be the focal point of everything."

"She was in your memories?"

"Yes!"

He was finally starting to understand. "Can you explain exactly what happened?" he asked.

Fleur smiled despite herself. She knew she would be able to turn to Matthew with this situation. She had already decided against going to Hermione about this. A dark feeling had emerged in the pit of her stomach earlier that afternoon when she woke up; she had a bad, seemingly irrational feeling that these memories somehow had something to do with Hermione. It was Fleur's first night in New York and Cassidy tricked her into having sex with her. Who knows what could have happened during the rest of the week?

Confusion, anxiety, and anger were Fleur's dominant emotions. Why had she forgotten a week of her life? Why was Cassidy here? How could Cassidy trick her like that? What did Cassidy have planned next? These and countless other questions filled her head, and Fleur had to keep reminding herself to take one step at a time. All of her questions would hopefully be answered eventually. However, did she _want_ the answer to some of those questions?

Just as Fleur opened her mouth to launch into her story, she heard footsteps from around the corner through the suffocating silence.

"Quick, behind that tapestry!" Matthew hissed.

She was one step ahead of him, and had already dived behind the tapestry on her left. To her dismay there was no secret passageway to another hall, so she desperately hoped that it would not be Snape to round the corner.

The approaching footsteps stopped right in front of her hiding place. Fleur held her breath.

'Evening, Professor," Matthew said cheerily.

"Who is with you, Vaughn?"

Eyes clenched shut, Fleur silently mouthed, "Fuck…" It was indeed Professor Snape. She would be in an enormous amount of trouble if he caught her there.

"Excuse me?" Fleur could just imagine Matthew standing there with convincing wide-eyed innocence. He had always been great at playing dumb, she remembered, rolling her eyes.

"Who were you just talking to?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"Talking to? I was talking to you."

"Is that so?"

Though Matthew sounded truly convincing, apparently Snape's mistrust for anybody not in his own house piqued his suspicions. Fleur could hear his heavy steps circling around the corridor. A tapestry on the other side of the hall was lifted. The blonde swallowed hard. It would only be a matter of time before Snape found her.

Thankfully, Matthew was silent during Snape's inspection of the corridor, which gave Fleur a chance to think. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a black-horned object. After staring incredulously at the Decoy Detonator for a moment—she never thought she would need to use it—she placed it on the ground, tapped it with the tip of her wand, and watched it scurry silently out of sight.

"Yes, sir. I heard footsteps, sir, and was a bit startled. Don't normally run into anybody while I'm patrolling," Matthew explained.

A loud noise, akin to that of several pots and pans clanging against the ground, sounded from what had to be two corridors away. Fleur's eyes widened and she praised Fred and George silently in her head for making such an efficient product.

"What's that?" Matthew inquired, politely baffled.

"Stay here, Vaughn. Do not move." Snape retreated down the hall in the direction of the noise.

"Yes, sir."

Moments later Fleur climbed out from her hiding spot behind the tapestry. Disappointment and mild panic flooded her head, but she knew there was nothing she would be able to do about it until later.

"Fleur, what did you do?" Matthew asked, standing on his tiptoes and straining his neck upward, as though it would help him peer around the corner to see the next corridor.

Brushing off her pajama pants, Fleur gazed at him. "Decoy Detonator. Never knew it would actually come in helpful," she added as an afterthought.

"You have to go before Snape comes back!" he said urgently.

"Yeah, no shit." Fleur rolled her eyes, but she pulled the Marauder's Map out of her waistband just to make sure Snape was not already coming back. "When can I talk to you?"

"I'll be back at the common room in half an hour."

"I can't believe I dated you," she said without thinking, irritated. "Matt, have you listened to a word I've said? The common room isn't safe!" Images of Cassidy flickered across her mind.

"And neither are the corridors after hours!" Matthew argued, frustrated.

"Whatever," Fleur said, not willing to admit he had a point. "Where can I meet you tomorrow?"

He looked at his watch and thought for a moment. "Meet me in the Owlery before breakfast. Fleur!" he exclaimed quietly when he saw the younger girl's features pull into a reluctant expression.

"All right, all right!" She was not thrilled at the prospect of waking up early, especially because she knew she was going to have difficulty sleeping tonight. However, she wanted to get things sorted out as quickly as possible so she could move onto the next step.

"You need to leave. _Now_," he said urgently, pressing his hands to her shoulders and gently pushing her in the opposite direction.

"I'm going, I'm going!" Fleur whispered, letting herself walk backward to the push on her shoulders. "Will you get in trouble?" She refused to let him get in trouble because of her.

Matthew shook his head. "For doing my job? I don't think so."

"Thanks, Matt," she smiled brightly. "I'll see you tomorrow!" The younger girl began moving down the corridor. Another glance at the map told her that Snape was on his way back.

"You're such a handful, Fleur," he said, shaking his head fondly.

"It's part of my charm."

* * *

There were still many people in the Gryffindor common room when Fleur returned five minutes later. To her enormous relief, she could not spot Cassidy anywhere inside. She was not ready to deal with the other girl yet.

Hermione was easy to find. She was stationed at a table in the corner of the common room, bent over a piece of parchment. Her brow was furrowed cutely in concentration, and Fleur felt an incredibly fond tug in the middle of chest as she approached the older girl. However, the anxiety in the pit of her stomach deepened as well, and she suddenly found herself furious at Cassidy. She had stolen the one piece of herself that Fleur had only ever considered giving to Hermione, and that was unforgivable.

"Where have you _been_, Fleur?" Hermione exclaimed when she caught sight of the blonde. She had clearly been worried.

Fleur dropped onto the seat across from the brunette and shrugged. "I went to bother Matt on his patrol," she said coolly, trying to keep her voice even and not let on how angry she was.

A hint of hurt flashed through Hermione's eyes so quickly that Fleur almost missed it. If she did not know Hermione as well as she did, she would not have noticed. The younger girl tilted her head in confusion as she wondered what was going on with her girlfriend. Did Hermione have a problem with Matthew?

"You could have gotten in serious trouble for that," Hermione said sternly. Whatever she was feeling, it did not show through her voice.

"Yeah, I know," Fleur responded, thinking how she would never go out after hours again unless she asked Harry to borrow his invisibility cloak as well. "Ran into Snape while I was out. Had to use one of those Decoy Detonators to get my way out of that one." She chuckled, remembering the incident clearly.

"How come you went to go see Matthew?" Hermione asked. Her voice was nonchalant but she was staring at her parchment with a little too much focus. Fleur's eyes narrowed.

"He asked me to meet him," she said. It was a lie, of course, but she was not ready to deliver the truth yet. "Anyway, I think I'm going to go to bed now. I've got an early start tomorrow."

"Oh?" Hermione looked up confusedly. "Why's that?"

Fleur shrugged. "Snape interrupted us, remember? I still need to talk to Matt."

"Didn't you say that Matt asked you to meet him?" Hermione asked, frowning.

The blonde was quick to backtrack. "He did, but only because he knew I wanted to talk to him."

"What about? Anything I can help with?" There was that uncaring demeanor again. Fleur knew it should not have bothered her, but it did.

She shook her head. "Not really," she said, eyeing the piece of parchment that Hermione was writing on. It was a letter to Viktor Krum. A hot stab of jealousy sliced through her chest like a burning knife, and she was suddenly happy that she went to go see Matthew.

Just as Fleur started to try reading the letter upside down, Hermione flicked her wand and the parchment rolled into her hand. "You know, I think I'm ready for bed too," she said, sounding cheery all of a sudden. "I'll go up with you."

"Fantastic." Deciding to push her feelings about Viktor Krum aside until tomorrow, Fleur smiled at the brunette. She was glad Hermione decided to go to bed as well. It would be comforting knowing that her girlfriend would be right there in case anything happened to her again. And she knew she would not have to face Cassidy tonight.

* * *

A/N: I realize that this is long overdue, and I apologize for the long wait. I always planned to finish this story, so I'm finally getting back on track. Thank you for all your reviews and support!


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